A Light in the Darkness: Veiled
by LadyAlambiel
Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?
1. Chapter One: Peril Unlooked For

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

_What's Gone on Before_

Shot entering a courthouse in our world, a stranger comes to Narnia one year into the Pevensies' reign. This stranger, Katerina Alambiel, gains the trust of young Queen Lucy even though others suspect she might be a witch. Still, she is allowed to remain in Cair Paravel as a guest. Oreius begins to earn her trust as she earns his. When the evil sorcerer, Jannes, takes Lucy, Katerina Alambiel is accused of being an accomplice even as she crafts a plan to rescue the Valiant Queen. Infiltrating the sorcerer's lair, Katerina Alambiel leaves a trail for Oreius and the Kings allowing them to rescue Lucy. Katerina Alambiel pursues and kills Jannes with Oreius' aid (Full story: _Awakened_).

After six months of finding a niche in the daily life and routine of Cair Paravel (Full story: _Shields_), Katerina Alambiel is counted as a friend rather than a guest by the Four and by General Oreius. She accompanies High King Peter and Queen Susan on a trip, unaware that another sorcerer intends to frame her as the High King's assassin. Just before parting ways with Susan, dark secrets in Katerina Alambiel's past are revealed. A pair of assassins frames Katerina Alambiel in two attacks on the High King's life before she and a badly wounded Peter are captured by the sorcerer, Jambres. As he tortures them, Jambres reveals that Katerina Alambiel is part Human and part Narnian. Katerina Alambiel interferes with Jambres' attempt to kill Peter, taking the brunt of the spell herself before Oreius and the other Narnians rescue them. Aslan confirms to Katerina Alambiel that she is both Human and Narnian, and that her Narnian heritage is that of Nymph and Centaur due to her mother being the Nymph daughter of a Centaur, before charging her with the task of searching for the identity of her birth family, thereby unlocking the forgotten memories of her early childhood. Katerina Alambiel survives the spell with the addition of two white streaks in the front of her hair as souvenirs and Peter decides to knight her into his chivalric order for her actions (Full story: _Shadowed_).

Two years after being knighted Dame Sepphora of the Most Noble Order of the Lion, Katerina Alambiel is nearing the end of her search for the identity of her Narnian birth family. While her long-forgotten memories begin to resurface, she runs afoul of Count Hendrik of Sisemaal, one of Narnia's allies. Afterwards, Katerina Alambiel discovers that she was born Alambiel, daughter of Lew the last King of Narnia, and the only survivor of Jadis' massacre of the original royal family. Before Katerina Alambiel can decide how to handle the information, she and King Edmund go on a border patrol but are captured by the vengeful disgraced Count Hendrik and his cousin, Heikki, who leads a group of mercenaries employed by the Witch Medea. As Peter and Oreius lead a huge rescue party to find them, Edmund and Katerina Alambiel are tormented by Medea. Peter and Oreius rescue them just after Medea turns Katerina Alambiel over to Heikki and Hendrik and prepares to kill Edmund. Medea is defeated and her forces routed and scattered. Katerina Alambiel swears Oreius and the four other Narnians who know the truth of her identity to secrecy (Full story: _Revealed_).

Two and a half years after the incident with Medea and the Sisemaalian mercenaries, Werewolves and Hags plot to resurrect Jadis through the sacrifice of royal blood. While General Oreius and the Kings are on a diplomatic journey to Archenland, Oreius is forced to reexamine his feelings for Katerina Alambiel. In the absence of the General and the Kings, Katerina Alambiel and Queen Susan are ambushed by Werewolves and Susan is spirited away to be the sacrifice. Katerina Alambiel and her small party pursue the Werewolves but without the aid of the soldiers led by General Oreius and the Kings, Katerina Alambiel offers herself as a trade. With Katerina Alambiel now prisoner of the Fell, the remaining soldiers and Susan finally meet up with the Kings and Oreius. While the injured Susan is rushed back to the Cair and the healing power of Lucy's cordial, Oreius and the Kings seek to rescue Katerina Alambiel before the Fell ceremony on Winter Solstice and the truth of Katerina Alambiel's royal heritage is revealed to the Four. Oreius and the Kings disrupt the ceremony and aid in Katerina Alambiel's escape. Upon returning to the Cair, Katerina Alambiel presents the Four with an edict resolving many potential issues concerning her heritage, which is now common knowledge, but Oreius waits for a better time to reveal to Katerina Alambiel that he cares for her as more than a friend (Full Story: _Concealed_).

Almost six months after having her royal heritage become common knowledge, Katerina Alambiel travels as the Princess Royal with General Oreius on a diplomatic mission to the country of Zelaia. On their last night in Zelaia, Katerina Alambiel comes to the realization that she loves Oreius. However, before either one speaks up, they are captured by slavers and sold into the underground world of the Blood Games. Forced to fight by the man who bought them, Katerina Alambiel and Oreius teeter on the brink of despair. They finally escape with another fighter and return to Narnia. Once they recover from their wounds, Oreius and Katerina Alambiel confess their love to each other and are now courting in secret (Full Story: _Rekindled_).

A little over five months after Katerina Alambiel and Oreius return to Narnia, they travel with Peter on a diplomatic trip to Telmar. However, due to treachery on part of one of the Lords of the Council of Telmar, the three are forced to end negotiations early and attempt to leave Telmar. Before they can cross the border, mercenaries attack them. Oreius stays behind, allowing Peter and a wounded Katerina Alambiel to escape. Once Katerina Alambiel is in the care of healers, Peter sneaks back into Telmar to discover Oreius' fate. When he finally finds the mercenaries though, he is captured. Tormented by the mercenary leader, Peter is then forced to fight for his and Oreius' freedom. After winning their freedom, the mercenaries once again ambush Peter and Oreius but the fight ends with the mercenary leader dead and Peter gravely wounded. Receiving guidance from an unexpected source, Oreius carries the wounded and, at times, delirious Peter through Telmar and the Western Wilds until they finally return to Narnia. Once he receives the cordial, Peter becomes betrothed to the Beech Nymph, Thalia, whom he's been courting for some time (Full Story: _Lion and Flower_), while Oreius and Katerina Alambiel choose to wait to announce their courtship until Peter and Thalia's wedding (Full Story: _Refracted_).

A month after Peter and Oreius' return to Narnia, a diplomatic party sets sail for the Seven Isles to represent Narnia at the wedding of the Governor's son. Soon Edmund, Lucy, and Tarrin Peridanson are separated from the rest of their party including Oreius and Katerina Alambiel who are still courting in secret. The search for their missing charges leads them through storms and into the company of a questionable character. Meanwhile, Edmund, Tarrin, and Lucy are unaware that their situation is not all that it seems. When Lucy discovers the truth, matters take a deadly turn and it is a race against time to defeat their hidden enemy. Tarrin Peridanson sacrifices himself to save his King and Queen, but is revived by the cordial upon their return to Narnia. Oreius and Katerina Alambiel's courtship is forced into the open and then Tarrin Peridanson is knighted Sir Delos of the Most Noble Order of the Table (Full Story: _Reflected_).

**_A Light in the Darkness: Veiled_**

Chapter One: Peril Unlooked For

_Run._ It was the only thing she could think. Rain pelted her face and wind whipped past her, tugging at her already tangled and matted hair, but it barely registered. Fear and the desire to escape had numbed her to all but the most painful sensations. Her leg ached and her lungs burned. It was so difficult to breathe, she could feel her broken ribs scraping against her lungs only a hair's breadth from puncturing them.

They were chasing her. She knew it. She couldn't let them capture her again. Death would be better… But, she didn't want to die. Not yet. She had to get back. Had to warn them before-

A scream ripped through the air as she tumbled down an embankment in the darkness. Landing in the muddy bank below, so close to the river she had needed to cross, she gasped, nearly weeping from the pain and from the knowledge that she hadn't escaped. She couldn't run anymore. A single tear mingled with the rain as the face that had helped her survive this long came to the fore of her thoughts again. "I'm…sorry. I tried…I...tried to-"

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The ground was shuddering. The vibrations hurt, forcing the woman to open her eyes as best she could. She couldn't see anything in the dark. She tried to move but pain enveloped her.

She must have passed out. She could hear voices above and around her. They sounded worried, not harsh like…like the other voices. A sharp pain bloomed in her head, squeezing. A whimper escaped and the closest voice took on a soothing murmur. It hurt…oh, it hurt. It hurt so much. The soft touch of blackness beckoned her and, knowing it would stop the pain, she willingly slipped into its warm embrace.

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33 Sunbend 1008

"Oreius!"

He looked up in surprise as Ardon slammed the door open. His friend's sides were covered in lather, no doubt from galloping in the late summer heat. "What is it?"

The thought occurred to him that perhaps Alithia was injured or, worse, losing her unborn foal. But, Ardon shook his head. "Oreius, you must go to the healers' wing. Now. The patrol from the northern border has returned and they have Alambiel with them."

Oreius froze. "What?" She could not have been at the northern border. Alambiel was in the Seven Isles aiding Queen Lucy.

But, he could not ignore the intensity in Ardon's brown eyes as the other Centaur grabbed his arm. "Alambiel has been taken to the healers' wing and Tuulea was summoned. You need to be with her. Now."

He didn't understand how it could be this way, but it was and he knew he had to be with her. Galloping out of his study, Oreius did not slow until he reached the healers' wing. The doors had been closed even though with this heat, the policy had been to leave them open to aid in cooling the general areas of the palace. Entering the healers' wing, Oreius scanned the room. Several of the junior healers, including the Faun Linus, were frantically preparing supplies or carrying them to the only section that had been curtained off. He could hear Alithia's hushed voice from behind the curtain. Alambiel was in there.

Tuulea stepped out of the curtained off section, but he didn't catch so much as a glimpse of Alambiel. Oreius angled his path slightly to avoid trampling her, but he was intent on pulling back the curtain. He nearly shouted in frustration when Tuulea darted in front of him, stopping him before he could reach the curtain. "Wait, young one. Wait." There was a hint of tears in the Nymph's dark eyes as she whispered, "You need to prepare yourself."

_Oh Lion, oh Aslan, no, please, no._ A vise tightened around his heart, making it all the more difficult to maintain his composure as he forced himself to choke out the question, "Is she dead?"

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! Hey, an early posting of the new entry in the main story arc (this is the eighth one)...that will make up for my terrible, terrible cliffhanger, right? :D I hope you enjoyed the KnockOut fluff present in all the other stories I've posted these last two weeks because we have boarded the angst train once again! Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one. **


	2. Chapter Two: Clinging to

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Two: Clinging to…

Relief coursed through him when the Black Elder Nymph shook her head, her dark hair swaying. "No. But, Alambiel is…" She looked down then sighed. "Oreius, whoever took her, whoever did this to her, they tortured her and you might find it…difficult to recognize her at the moment."

Oreius closed his eyes at the painful thought that someone had once again captured Alambiel and had delivered even worse hurt than she had suffered two months past. His fists clenched as he blew out a slow breath, steeling himself as he focused on one fact: Not dead. His Alambiel was not dead, hurt but not dead. Opening his eyes, he gave a curt nod. "I am prepared. Let me see her." For a moment, he thought Tuulea might argue but then she acquiesced and pulled back the curtain, allowing him to enter. Truly, he had believed himself prepared, but still he gasped.

The only thing that identified the woman on the cot as Alambiel was her hair…he couldn't say that he would have recognized her without it. Her face was swollen, bruised, and covered in little cuts. It looked as though her nose had been broken at least once. Bandages wrapped around her head and more were wrapped tightly around her hands and each individual finger, contrasting with the cream-colored sheet that had been pulled up under her arms. He could see other bandages peeking out from beneath her shift where they covered her left collarbone and it looked as though her left arm was broken as well…

Approaching the cot, Oreius' hand wavered over her as he sought some place he could touch to confirm this was real without causing her more pain. He finally settled on curling a blonde lock between his fingers. _Aslan…Aslan, how could this be?_ His voice sounded ragged to his own ears as he asked, "How badly has she been injured?"

The prolonged silence was…alarming. Tearing his gaze away from Alambiel's still form, Oreius looked at the healers standing on the other side of the cot. Tuulea and Alithia exchanged a long look then the Nymph nodded. Alithia flicked her tail then slowly replied, "They tortured her. They pushed her as close to death as they could. They ripped out all her nails, fingers and toes. She has multiple broken ribs, two of them are perilously close to puncturing a lung, and it looks like whoever did this crushed her ribcage as much as they were able to and still keep her alive. She has a broken leg, which was aggravated. We believe she ran on it. They opened all of her old scars, Oreius, even the ones on her back…except for the scars in the center of her hands. They crushed the bones in her hands, instead. She also has head trauma."

The litany of wounds, of injuries, was nearly too much to bear. Oreius stroked Alambiel's hair, allowing the blonde lock to curl around his fingers, hiding the rage that fought to find expression. Someone had done this to his heart, had dared to hurt her, to _torture_ her. The words rose unbidden, but that did naught to detract from their lethal promise. "I will destroy them." Shaking his head, he took a deep breath, forcing the rage, the need to lash out at the ones responsible for Alambiel's pain, down. The effort strained his voice. "Did she give you any information about who attacked her? How she came to be on the Ettinsmoor border? _Why_ they did this?"

The healers shook their heads. Tuulea moved closer, so she was now directly across from him. Her dark gaze focused on Alambiel for a long moment. Raising her eyes to meet his, she spoke very softly, "Oreius, she is in a coma. Alambiel may never wake up."

_Oh Aslan, no._

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Three days had passed since Alambiel had been brought back to the Cair, broken. Oreius spent the nights in the healing ward, watching and waiting for any sign that she would wake. His days…he had opted to place his own name on the limited duty roster under the miscellaneous section. Between his captains and lieutenants, all but the most pressing duties were taken care of and when he was not with Alambiel, he was interrogating the soldiers who had found her. But, they could tell him next to nothing. A storm had reached the northern foothills, destroying Alambiel's trail, and their concern over her condition had prompted the captain in charge of the patrol to forego searching for her attackers in favor of returning to Cair Paravel.

The underlying fear that she would slip away without ever waking constantly sought to bring him to despair, but he refused to give heed to those doubts or even Tuulea and Alithia's quiet caution. His Alambiel was a survivor. She would fight to stay and she would win. The summer heat remained unbroken by rain and it was a growing concern for the healers.

Entering the healers' wing on the fourth afternoon, Oreius ignored the junior healers bustling about (three of whom had been set to working large fans to help cool the room) and stepped into the curtained off area. Her soft, labored breathing was the only sign of life. _Aslan, help her._ He still could only touch her hair for fear of causing her additional pain, but even as Oreius gently curled a golden strand that had worked its way loose of her braid around his fingers, his mind struggled to mesh this suffering, clinging to life state with his vibrant Alambiel. The mare who could never be still, always moving, always plotting, always making his life more interesting. No, this stillness was unnatural. Oreius closed his eyes for a moment, pushing the fear and worry down. He easily recalled how she had looked the morn she had left Cair Paravel…

_She was pulling clothes out of her travel pack as he tapped on the door. Glancing up, his cheeky little minx smiled, placing a finger against her lips. "Shh! Don't tell Tuulea."_

_"__Why are you unpacking? Have you decided to stay?"_

_She laughed, shaking her head. "No." Alambiel fastened the pack, looking more soldier than Princess Royal in her simple tunic and leggings even with her golden hair tamed into an intricately braided chignon. "I'm still going on that ridiculous boat, but I do not need to bring these extremely formal dresses with me since I'm only acting as the Princess Royal twice. I'm bringing three formal gowns, which is more than enough. And since Leeta is already at the docks, there's no one to tell on me."_

_Oreius smiled, chuckling softly at her playful mischief (he had no doubt Tuulea was well aware of Alambiel's habits regarding her packing). The words he longed to say rose within him, but he wanted to do something special when he finally asked her to be his wife, something where they would not be rushed or interrupted. When Alambiel returned though, when she returned, he would ask. For now, he contented himself with a far simpler question. "May I escort you to the ship?"_

_Fondness lit her blue eyes as she stepped closer, pack slung over one shoulder. "Of course, a chara." Alambiel touched his cheek then rose on her toes, brushing her lips against his. She grinned at him. "There. Now you don't have to worry about me wanting another public display of affection in front of everyone who's shown up to see Lucy and me off."_

_Oreius snorted. "I was not worried."_

_"__Were you planning to kiss me at the docks?" He hadn't considered it and she knew it. It was obvious in the mischievous gleam in her eyes as she nodded. "Thought so."_

_He would have argued the point or at least given her his reasons, but they were running out of time. The Morning Dove, Queen Lucy's new personal vessel, would be setting sail with the tide soon. "Be careful. Do not get into trouble this time."_

_"__Oh don't worry, Kentauri. Lucy and I will be fine. Remember it was really Edmund and Tarrin who found all the trouble last time, not to mention causing this trip to be necessary, and those two Murphy magnets are staying here with you." She paused then tilted her head as an exaggerated expression of concern appeared. "Oh my! On second thought, maybe I should be worried about you being stuck here."_

_He chuckled. "Minx. Come now, we cannot linger."_

_She huffed, muttering under her breath about Murphy and boats and impatient Centaurs as she headed around him into the sitting room. Oreius could only watch her, trying not to smile at her antics. The words he wanted most to say were tantalizing. "Alambiel…"_

_Pausing mid-step, she turned back toward him with a quizzical expression. Marry me. He did not voice the thought, not yet. Not when it was so rushed. Instead, he closed the distance between them and pulled her into an abrupt hug, inhaling the cinnamon scent clinging to her hair. He pressed his lips against her temple as her arms came around him, returning the embrace. Setting her back down, Oreius caressed her cheek. "I will miss you, Alambiel."_

_A slow smile spread across her lips as she curled her fingers over his hand, leaning her cheek against his palm. "I'll miss you too, Oreius. Just try not to get lost in your paperwork while I'm gone." She squeezed his hand. "And, I love you too."_

"General?"

The question jarred Oreius out of his memories as he looked over his shoulder. Tanith. The Centauress gave Alambiel's still form a pitying look, something his Alambiel would have hated if she were awake to see it. "Forgive me for disturbing you, but both Tuulea and Alithia said you should remember to tend to your own needs. They have charged me with seeing that you do not ignore any more meals, Sir."

He had wondered when they would resort to such measures; though truly, he was more than fit and he was loathe to leave Alambiel's side. "Give me a moment more, if you please." When Tanith retreated, he turned back to his beloved. There was no change. She still lingered, clinging to life with each breath. They needed the Valiant Queen to return with the cordial soon. Leaning down, Oreius placed his mouth against her ear and whispered, "Keep fighting, Alambiel. Do not leave us yet, my love, not yet. I will return shortly, I promise."

He waited a moment, hoping against hope that she might give some indication that she heard him, but there was none. Tanith was waiting near the doors and he was thankful for the courtesy she had rendered by not staying where she might overhear his words to Alambiel. The Centauress' warm brown eyes were filled with sympathy as she spoke, "I arranged for a meal to be delivered to the solarium nearest here. I am certain you do not wish to be far should anything change."

Oreius bowed his head in thanks. "That should satisfy Alithia, no doubt." The meal should have been tempting and perhaps it would have been had Alambiel been the one he shared it with, but now everything was without flavor and taste. He could care less what he ate. His mind was consumed with more than a little frustration that the Morning Dove had yet to reach Cair Paravel.

"General Oreius?"

He focused on Tanith…he had nearly forgotten she was in the room. "Your pardon, Tanith, my thoughts were elsewhere."

The healer pushed back her long, black hair then touched his hand. "I understand. There has been no word from the Valiant?"

"No," he said stiffly. Stepping away from the high table they had been using, he crossed to the window facing the sea, searching in vain for Queen Lucy's trig little ship. "The decision was made to have the Merfolk deliver the message as the heat has been so difficult on even our strongest flyers. However-"

"They won't be able to bring the cordial back."

"It was not asked of them. However, I had hoped to hear news of the Morning Dove's departure."

Tanith touched his arm then handed him a goblet of chilled wine. "You should drink this. Alithia also bid me to remind you that you will be unable to help the Princess Royal if you do not keep your own strength up."

Taking the goblet, he stared into its burgundy depths then shook his head. "You may inform Alithia and Tuulea that you witnessed me tend to my own needs, Tanith. I need to return to Alambiel."

"General Oreius," she called after him. "Do you believe she will wake?"

"Yes." He did not add that he dared not think otherwise, that it would be too much to bear to think his heart would not wake once more. _Oh Aslan, let her stay. I wish only to hear her laughter, her teasing, and see the love in her eyes again. Please, Great Lion, please let her stay. Let her linger long enough for the cordial to be brought to her._

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She heard voices again, first three then two then only one. For a moment, she almost recognized them. Then a sharp pain flared and she let go of the tenuous thread, no longer attempting to hang on to the fleeting memory. It hurt too much. Her eyelids felt heavy and for some reason she could only open one. She stared up at the clean, delicately arched ceiling. Why was she surprised to see it was clean and gleaming white marble?

She tried to take a deep breath but her lungs screamed in agonizing protest. Biting back a whimper, she turned her head, ignoring the lesser pain that movement caused. Someone was staring down at her. A voice boomed, "Tuulea! Alithia!" Dark eyes gleamed with distinct pleasure and relief as he smiled down at her. "Thank Aslan, you are awake." He leaned closer, pleasure now replaced with a serious concern. "I would not press you if it were not urgent, but please tell me who did this to you? Who attacked you?"

More voices came closer, making her head pound. She felt something wet trickle down her cheek…a tear, but she couldn't decide why she was crying, whether it was from pain or fear. She stared up at him then hoarsely whispered, "Who are you?

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! **


	3. Chapter Three: Searching

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Three: Searching

_Who are you?_ The question, the one question he had not expected, had not dreamed would be asked, haunted Oreius. It haunted him even more than the fact that there was such fear in her eyes and that she had been in such pain Tuulea and Alithia had sent him out while they tended to her. He did not look at the junior healers as they scurried around him; instead, his gaze remained fixed on the curtains hiding Alambiel from sight.

What had happened to her? Time seemed to slow to an agonizing rate as he waited for Tuulea or Alithia to emerge…as he waited for this to make sense. It was not the first time Alambiel had had no memory, but that had been before her return to Narnia, it had been Aslan's providence in protecting a child until the time was right for her to remember her true heritage and past. _Who are you?_ His hands tightened into fists as he struggled to make sense of it all.

The curtain parted and both Tuulea and Alithia emerged. He caught a brief glimpse of Alambiel but she did not seem to be awake anymore. Though it pained him to admit it, perhaps that was best for now. He followed the healers to a secluded storeroom, barely waiting for the door to close out any listening ears before he asked, "Why doesn't she remember?"

Alithia spread her hands as a helpless look appeared. "It could be due to anything, Oreius. Perhaps it is the head trauma she suffered combined with the time she spent unconscious. Perhaps something was given to her to invoke such confusion or…"

"Or it could be a protective measure due to the torture. The mind has ways of protecting itself, refusing to recall what is too horrible to bear or even erasing everything painful until enough healing has occurred to force it out," Tuulea stated softly. The Black Elder Nymph shook her head as she continued, "But, we have no way of knowing and without the cordial… She is in too much pain to provide answers or to be questioned. For her sake, we have placed her under heavy sedation."

Oreius tensed. "What of the risk that she will not wake from it?"

"If she wakes on her own, she may cause herself further injuries; perhaps even puncture her lungs before the cordial has a hope of reaching her. It is not a good choice but it is the only conscionable one available."

"Will the cordial restore her memory?"

The healers exchanged looks then Tuulea nodded very slowly. "Perhaps, if this memory loss is in fact caused by the head trauma."

"Perhaps?" Oreius pressed for a firm answer, the hope for the return of _his_ Alambiel now resting all the more on the cordial. He needed that hope and he needed it to be a true hope.

"There is no way to know for certain," Tuulea said. She shook her head again, causing her black hair to sway and slip over her shoulders. "The cordial hasn't been used to restore memory and the last time Alambiel could not remember her past, the cordial did not restore those memories."

"But the memories were blocked by Aslan's design, not by an injury." Oreius grasped the Nymph by the arm. "Please."

The Nymph sighed but her touch was the light comfort of a mother and grandmother as she laid her hand over his. "There is yet hope, Oreius. You are right; the situation is different and there is hope that the cordial will restore Alambiel fully in both body and mind."

Oreius nodded and stepped back then bowed. "Thank you."

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A roar of rage filled the cavern. "You idiot sons of jackals! Tash take you all! You let her escape!"

The two men who still lived prostrated themselves before him. The skinnier of the two lifted his narrow, pockmarked face as he whined, "Forgive us, O my Master! The witch was too swift, her dealings with demons gave her strength she should not have had, or else we would have captured her."

Unappeased, he kicked the man in the face, ignoring the pained cries as he paced the cavern. "Fools! She was half-dead! You'd best pray to Tash that the woman died before anyone could get any information out of her or else I will not be the one who kills you. It will be our most glorious and powerful benefactor."

He ran a finger over the ornate handle of the curved Calormene dagger hanging at his belt at the thought of the cloaked and hooded stranger who had discovered long-hidden information and used it to chain and control him, forcing him to recreate himself as a 'robber baron' in this miserable northern wasteland. 'Robber Baron,' a disgrace…

And all of this for Ishara Reborn.

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6 Twirleaf 1008

Moving silently on slippered feet, she entered the healers' wing. As night brought some relief from the lingering heat, the junior healers no longer worked the large fabric fans that were attached to equally large wooden frames that had been positioned strategically around the main room. In fact, given the time of night, only a few healers were present within the wing.

She moved past them and paused in front of the half-closed door to one of the private healing rooms. Her gaze fell on one of the fierce Leopards standing guard and she quirked an eyebrow in silent question. The Leopard dipped his dark head once. She took a fortifying breath then pushed the door open.

The sight before her made her heart ache with sympathy. The Centaur stood silent guard at the foot of his lady's sickbed, his gaze fixed on her face, but she didn't stir. Her breaths were barely detectable now. The Centaur General turned his head at her approach and for a moment, there was a look of tenuous hope and great concern in his dark gaze before he resumed his familiar impassive expression and bowed low. "My Queen, have you news of the Queen Lucy's return?"

Susan shook her head as she came closer, lowering her voice. "No, but Edmund was summoned from a late dinner to the beach. How is she?"

Oreius looked toward Kat's still form. "She has not woken again. The healers say this is better until we can give her the cordial and this room is more easily guarded."

Placing her hand on Oreius' arm, Susan didn't voice an apology (surely the Centaur had already heard enough from well-meaning healers) nor did she mention her own concern about what Kat's condition meant for Lucy (Edmund had already set his spies to searching for information about everything that had happened since the Morning Dove left port at Cair Paravel). "We're going to sort this out, Oreius."

The Centaur bowed gravely once more. "Thank you, my Queen."

A commotion came from outside the door. She could hear Edmund snapping at his Wolves again. She cast a concerned glance at Kat but she never stirred as Edmund's voice rose. "No, you two stay out here before you get yourselves in _more _trouble!" She couldn't hear what the Wolves said but it obviously didn't please her brother. "I don't care if you were just curious about why she smelled like fish, the Lady Syrena was not very amused to have you two slobbering all over her face." There was a pause then Edmund's low groan filtered through the door. "Of course, she tasted like salt and fish, she's a Mermaid who lives in the ocean. Stay here. And no frogs."

Edmund stalked into the room and it took everything in her to resist exclaiming over the sandy and salt-encrusted state of his fine doublet, including a number of large paw prints across his chest and shoulders, not to mention his boots and leggings. And his dark hair was sticking up every which way. Oh, he needed a comb desperately. Edmund rubbed a hand over his face. "All right, I have some news." He glanced at where Kat lay then lowered his voice further and beckoned them closer as he backed away from the bed.

Susan clasped her hands together. "What is it, Edmund?"

"They had a particularly good trip, the winds allowed the Morning Dove (as it is built for speed even more so than our Splendor Hyaline) to make port at Redhaven within four days, docking late on the twenty-fourth. Kat and Lucy made their official appearance at Governor Harbrace's palace at breakfast on the twenty-fifth and then Kat went to Hadassah House while Lucy sequestered with the diplomats to handle the dispute. Ptah was with Kat."

Oreius stepped closer, still looming over them both even if not by quite as much as he did eight years ago, and there was steel in his voice as he bit out, "What happened?"

"No one seems to know," Edmund replied, his face grim. "Kat vanished that night. Ptah was found darted just inside the courtyard of Hadassah House by Tegene at around half past fourth hour, but Kat was missing when Lanka went to alert her to Ptah's condition. Five days later, our patrol found her in Ettinsmoor just on the other side of the River Shribble and then they pushed to get her here within three days, something they wouldn't have managed if they hadn't met up with another patrol who had just set out from the Cair. The Mermaids couldn't get word to Lucy until three days ago because the Terebinthian party insisted the negotiations be a closed door affair and all messages be held until the negotiations were concluded."

Susan pressed a hand against her heart, more than a little relieved that Lucy was, indeed, safe. "But, when will she return?"

Edmund frowned. "As soon as the winds allow."

She looked again at Kat, at all the bandages, then the horrified whisper slipped out, "But how could they do all of this damage to her in less than five days? What did they want?"

"If you will remember, my Queen, the Seven Isles are but a day or two's sailing from the eastern shore of Ettinsmoor, if the conditions are just right, and we do not know how far Alambiel ran to reach the river."

"He's right, Su. Besides I talked to Alithia, she said the initial wounds occurred eight or nine days before Kat was brought here and then it became more systematic until the last wounds occurred either the same day or the day before our patrol found her. The only explanation is whoever abducted Kat was torturing her for information."

"Edmund!" Susan hissed with a cautious look at Oreius.

But the Centaur merely shook his head as he folded his brawny arms over his chest. "It is all right, Majesty. King Edmund is correct and I have come to the same conclusion. They wanted information otherwise she would have been killed or worse instead of this focus on systematic torture." There was a thread of tension in his voice and the stern lines of his face seemed sharper while he spoke. "And, the Lion knows that Alambiel possesses a great deal of information that would be deadly to us all if it were ever given over to an enemy."

"She wasn't talking."

Edmund sounded so sure and then Oreius gave a firm nod. "They would have ceased torturing her if she had given them the information they wanted," he stated simply, his tone brooking no argument.

Susan looked again at the bed then sighed. "We shall have to send word to Peter. When did Lucy set sail?"

"The Morning Dove set sail two days ago since they had to find Ptah. Once he finally recovered from the darts, he immediately began scouring the island." Edmund shrugged. "We'll have to wait for them to come home before we can learn more." He scowled suddenly as he looked past her. "And now I have to interrupt Peter's honeymoon…he's going to appreciate that so much."

She patted him on the cheek (it was the one clean spot on his face). "You can do that after you clean up and eat something." Edmund made a face but she merely turned to face Oreius. "Do you need anything, Oreius? I could bring you some tea or coffee, if that's what you prefer. Or I could sit with Kat for a while so you can get some rest."

A faint smile appeared on the Centaur's lips for the briefest of moments before he shook his head and bowed gravely. "Thank you, my Queen, but no. I will stay with her." Susan nodded and started to follow Edmund out of the room, but her steps faltered when she heard something she was certain she hadn't been meant to hear. "I do not want her to be afraid anymore."

As Susan dug out a handkerchief and dabbed at the sudden wetness in her eyes, she could only pray. _Aslan, please help them both. Please let Lucy come home with her cordial before it's too late. _

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! Dun Dun DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN! So, any guesses as to who Bad Guy #1 is? Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one. Oh and an early happy birthday to trustingHim17. :)**

**P.S. If you want to refresh your memory about "Ishara Reborn," that information can be found in my story _A Light in the Darkness: Rekindled_.**


	4. Chapter Four: Call Home

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Four: Call Home

Edmund scowled and, crumpling the parchment, threw it into the growing pile on the rug. Remus nosed the pile then crawled over to him and rested his head on his knee with a low sigh. The Wolf's yellow gaze fixed on him, full of the concern and tenderheartedness that quite made up for how much of a menace he and his twin could be at times. "Did you have a bad hunt, King Edmund?"

"What?" Edmund blinked at the parchment before him then buried the fingers of his free hand in Remus' grey ruff. "Well, of a sorts." He scowled as he once again began to scratch out the letter he did not want to send. Kat's still, bandaged form flashed before his eyes and he shook his head, uttering a low oath.

"Edmund Alexander Pevensie!"

He cringed and Remus slipped away. Edmund caught a glimpse of two furry tails disappearing beneath his bed before he gave Susan his most innocent look. "Su? Is everything all right? I didn't expect you to come here considering it's…" He darted a glance at the water clock. "After midnight."

His sister's pink lips formed into a thin line. Her eyes narrowed and a dangerous sparkle entered them. "Mind your language. And, I am well aware of what time it is, for that is why I came to check on you." He wished he could have breathed a sigh of relief when Susan's gaze shifted to the pile of discarded parchments, but he knew better than to assume she was finished scolding him for forgetting his manners (although he wouldn't have if those blasted Wolves had alerted him to her presence like proper guards). "Still writing to Peter?"

Shuffling the sheaf of parchment that still resided on his desk, Edmund didn't meet her eyes. "Well, I'm trying to think of a better way to phrase things than "I blew it, Peter. Come be the magnificent big brother and fix everything for me." Not to mention the fact that this shouldn't be happening." He rubbed his hair. "I promised Peter that yes, of course, I would make sure everything was fine here so he and Thalia can have a long honeymoon because you know that lummox will be very difficult to pry away from the Cair for needed holidays. He always has been…unless it's for fishing. And now, Kat's in the healers' wing dying. I talked to Alithia. She doesn't even know why Kat's still alive. We don't have nearly the amount of the information we need to find whoever did this to her and even Lucy's return might not bring us enough information."

He ran his hands through his hair again. Then Susan touched his cheek, drawing his attention back to her. "It's not your fault, Edmund. We should thank Aslan that Kat escaped otherwise we probably would have never known what happened to her. Peter's not going to blame you, either."

"No, he'll likely feel all guilty and blame himself," he stated drily. "I hope Thalia will hit him over the head so he sees sense."

A slight smile graced his sister's lips. "Well, it will take three days for them to return from the Northern hunting lodge, I'm sure Thalia will use it to her advantage."

Edmund cleared his throat as he finished scratching out the message. "Well, actually, it shouldn't take more than a hard day's ride." He frowned at the bed. "Romulus!"

There was a thump and a muffled yelp followed by a definite bark of laughter before the grey Wolf crawled out from under the bed. He touched the top of his head with his paw and gave the bed a surly look before he straightened. Walking toward them with as much confidence as he could muster, Romulus wagged his tail slightly. "Yes, King Edmund?"

"Would you summon Skeat from the hall?"

"Yes, King Edmund." Romulus raced out of the room.

Edmund arched an eyebrow at Susan, who looked down to hide her smile. The Red-Tail Hawk swept into the room and landed on top of the wardrobe, bowing deeply. "King Edmund. Queen Susan."

Rising to his feet, Edmund gave the Hawk the sealed missive. "Take this to the High King at once. You'll find him and his Consort at the mountain cabin just above the foothills of Stormness Head." Skeat bowed low once more then he swept out of the window Susan had opened with a raptor's scream.

Edmund braced himself for Susan's inevitable scolding. "I promised Peter I wouldn't tell anyone where he really took Thalia." She didn't say anything, merely turning away to look at the water clock. Edmund sat in his chair with a heavy sigh, only to squawk in surprise when something attacked his hair. "Susan!"

"Oh, do hold still, Ed." Susan was wielding the hairbrush with a mission and Edmund sighed again. His sister continued to attack his hair. "Lion knows, if I didn't, you probably wouldn't even allow Martil to help you."

At the sound of his name, the Faun valet poked his head inside the bedroom. "Majesties?"

Edmund crossed his arms and glowered but Susan merely waved at the Faun. "Martil, would you see a bath is drawn for my brother? He needs it quite desperately."

His scowl deepened but his valet paid him no mind as he narrowed his eyes at Edmund's clothes. "At once, my Queen."

As his valet scurried away, Edmund scowled at Susan. "I can change without help, you know."

"Of course, you can," his sister agreed mildly. She finally set the hairbrush aside then looked him over. "You're too thin. Did you eat anything since you left the healers' wing? You didn't, did you? I knew it. Well, I am going to leave you in Martil's capable hands but I shall return with a proper meal and some of my chamomile tea." She swept out of the room before Edmund could say anything. He comforted himself with the thought that Susan might be feeling sorry enough for him to bring some of her apple pie.

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Lucy fiddled with her cordial, the life-giving red liquid sloshing around in its diamond vial. If only Lord Merrick hadn't insisted on secluding the members of the negotiation, maybe she would have been at Hadassah House too. And, likely taken right along with Kat. She chewed on her bottom lip as she rubbed her thumb over the lion head-shaped stopper. Why would anyone take Kat and how did they manage it without waking anyone?

Ptah paced the cabin. The Leopard's lower jaw hung slightly open, showing off his fangs, and his ears were flattened as his tail lashed irritably. Lucy sighed. Poor Ptah was still blaming himself for being darted by unknown assailants and losing Kat.

"It's not your fault."

The Leopard growled as his golden eyes fixed on her. "With respect, My Queen, it was indeed my fault. I am the Princess Royal's guard. The General trusted me to keep her safe. And I did not."

Rising from her stool, Lucy placed her hand on Ptah's head in the space between his ears. "We'll be home soon. Captain Thornbrik assured me that we'll make Cair Paravel in two days should the wind continue to hold."

No sooner had the words left her mouth than she realized something odd about the ship's movement. She looked at the Leopard then rushed to the porthole, rising on tiptoe to peer out. "We've stopped!" She could hear shouts and stamping feet overhead as the ship suddenly rocked.

Lucy stumbled backwards, catching herself on the edge of her secured desk. The ship rocked again and Ptah dug his claws into the floorboards. There was a clatter of hooves then the cabin door opened. A soaking wet Satyr bowed his head. "A storm is bearing down on the ship, Your Majesty. Captain Thornbrik has ordered you to remain secure in the cabin until things blow over."

She nodded. "Thank you, Lieutenant Dalibor." As the Satyr shut the door, she raced back to the portal, watching as the smooth silver sea and clear blue skies shifted to a choppy white-capped grey and swiftly darkening clouds lit only with the occasional arc of lightning. Lucy rested her hand against the smooth wood of the wall and murmured, "The Dove will hold; she'll get us home, Aslan willing." Ptah said nothing, merely pressing against the back of her legs. But, she knew as well as he that this storm might be enough to delay them too long. _Please, Aslan, please let us reach home before it's too late for Kat._

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7 Twirleaf 1008

In the cool reaches of the woods coating the upper foothills of Stormness Head, the High King drowsed with his head pillowed in his bride's lap. Thalia smiled as she ran her slim fingers through his golden hair. They had hidden in the mountains for three weeks, becoming accustomed to their new married life free from the distractions of royal duties and petitions and the like. She started slightly when Peter captured her left hand and pressed a fervent kiss against her fingers. "I thought perhaps you had fallen asleep, my lord."

Her husband opened one blue eye and gently chided, "Peter, just Peter."

Thalia blushed even as she smiled. "Then I must beg your forgiveness for forgetting, Peter."

Peter grinned and a mischievous little twinkle appeared in his eyes as he gave her a wide-eyed look. "No, my dear Flower, I think your atonement will take more than pretty words."

She could feel the blush deepening as it warmed her cheeks but still she smiled. "Oh?"

He gave a confident nod. "Yes, Flower." Peter stretched then his left arm snaked around her waist, pulling her forward as he rolled. Thalia laughed as her husband's strong arms came around her, clasping her close as they rolled toward the cabin. Her silk skirts were tangled about their legs when they came to a stop with Peter staring down at her. "Now, what were we talking about, my sweet Thalia?" he asked with a cocky grin. "Oh yes, I remember."

Thalia wrapped a hand around Peter's neck, pulling him closer as their lips met in a kiss. She breathed his name as he pressed kisses down the side of her neck and tugged at the neck of her dress to expose her shoulder. A hideous scent caught her attention just as her husband's lips grazed her collarbone. Thalia opened her eyes. "Peter?" He didn't stop his attentions. She shifted her hands in order to push against his chest. "Peter!"

Peter lifted his head, looking more than a little bewildered. "Thalia?"

"Something is burning."

His eyes went wide and he leapt to his feet, nearly tripping as his boots tangled in her skirts. "The food!" He leaned back down to pull her to her feet then he dropped her hand and raced into the cabin. Thalia followed, running in just in time to witness Peter yelp as he nearly dropped a smoking stewpot in the floor, but he was able to transfer it to the sink without mishap. He grabbed a large ladle and scooped water into the pot, causing more smoke and steam to billow up. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled widely. "Don't worry, I'll just add some more water and it will be fine."

Thalia managed to smile in return. "This is the surprise you mentioned earlier?"

"Yes, a meal for my bride."

As soon as he focused on adding more water to the stew, Thalia rubbed the side of her neck before moving to open the windows to help dispel the smoke filling the kitchen. "Peter, you've been so generous to cook for us these last weeks; perhaps I should make the next meal. 'Twould only be fair, I think. After all, we shan't have many opportunities to cook for each other once we return to the Cair."

What hope she had that he would accept her suggestion this time died when Peter shook his head, still smiling. "Oh no. I want to pamper my wife and that means I do all the cooking. All right, the stew's ready, I think."

She had never envied the Hamadryads who were so deeply connected to their trees that they needed only to consume the rich loam…until these last three weeks. Still, she dared not hurt Peter's feelings when he was trying so hard to take care of her. Setting the small table, Thalia mused that she had never guessed King Edmund had been anything save teasing when he warned her about Peter's cooking skills. Peter suddenly wrapped his arms around her middle and kissed her cheek. "I am most blessed among all men."

Thalia couldn't help smiling as she whispered, "Oh, Peter."

He lifted her hand and pressed another fervent kiss to the back of her fingers then helped her to her chair. Peter winked at her as he poured the white wine in their glasses. Then he fetched the stewpot and ladled a generous amount into her bowl. "See? I rescued it just in time."

She didn't look at the bowl. Instead, she kept her eyes and her smile fixed on her husband as he filled his own bowl then raised his glass. Thalia mimicked his movement and met his smile with her own before they raised their eyes as Peter spoke, "Aslan, for this bountiful meal and most wondrous company, we give thanks."

"We give thanks." Lowering her glass, Thalia finally examined her meal. There were round chunks of white meat that looked half-burnt, black flakes that bore a definite resemblance to scales decorated the surface of the brownish liquid, limp carrots, some oddly shaped cubes that rather looked like half-skinned potatoes, and she thought there might be a fin but it sank before she could decide what it was for certain. "Peter, what did you make this stew with?"

He grinned. "Oh, I used the fish I caught this morn then I tossed in some carrots, potatoes, and cucumbers. Oh, and I added gravy to the water to add texture to the broth." He gave her a slightly sheepish smile. "I should apologize that I didn't cut everything as neatly as I probably should have, but I was in a bit of a rush to finish preparing everything before you finished cleaning up."

Thalia scooped a spoonful of the…stew and tried to swallow it quickly. She set her spoon down almost too hastily and took a sip of her wine. Peter was watching her with concern. "Are you all right, Flower? How does the stew taste?"

He was scooping more of it into his bowl. The Queens were right; Peter could eat just about anything. Thalia took a bigger sip of her wine then cleared her throat. "I honestly cannot find the words to do justice to the taste of your stew, my love."

Peter smiled as he relaxed. "Good, good. Best eat up before it gets cold, though."

Thalia drank some more wine then smiled. "Yes, of course." She scooped another spoonful of the stew and started to bring it to her mouth. A raptor's cry tore through the air as a Hawk swooped through the open window and Thalia set the spoon back in the bowl.

Leaping to his feet, her husband's face took on a stern, kingly cast as he crossed the kitchen to their unexpected visitor. "Skeat! Why are you here? What has happened?"

The Red-Tail Hawk bowed his feathered head. "Much, High King. Much."

As Peter took the message and began to read, Thalia rose to her feet. The Tiger twins entered the cabin, eyes bright and fur standing on end. Babur paused to sniff at the table and curled his lips in an expression of clear disgust before his sister nudged him. Thalia gently rest a hand on her husband's broad shoulder. "Peter. What is it?"

There was anguish and no small amount of guilt clouding his blue eyes when he finally looked at her. "We have to go home. Edmund wrote and we have to go home."

He handed her the missive then strode to the table. As he took care of the meal, Thalia read the message.

_Dear Peter,_

_I apologize for disturbing you on your honeymoon. However, a situation has risen here. Kat was found on the Ettinsmoor border half-dead. Lucy is safe but we don't have much to go on until Kat recovers. Lucy is bringing the cordial for her. Something's going on here. We need to regroup at the Cair._

_Hurry._

_Edmund_

Lowering the missive, Thalia turned to see the Tigers slipping out of the cabin. Peter didn't meet her eyes as he instructed Skeat to return to the Cair ahead of them. Once the Hawk left, her husband strode without a word into their bedroom. Thalia followed. "Peter. You cannot blame yourself."

He still didn't meet her eyes as he pulled out their packs and his sword. "Something happened on the Seven Isles. I never should have allowed them to return, not after that mess with Circe. Cair Paravel could have served as a neutral meeting place. I should have insisted that they come to Cair Paravel."

Thalia crossed to him, ducking under his arm so she could place her hand over his heart. Meeting his eyes, she touched his cheek with her other hand. "But, that would have been asking too much of the Gentle. Nor was there any reason to suspect more trouble awaited them. Your shoulders are broad and strong, my husband, but even you cannot long bear burdens that were never meant to be yours." She caressed his cheek then flattened her hand against his chest, pressing harder. "You cannot protect everyone from everything but I know you and your brother and the General will make whoever has dared trespass against Narnia's own rue the day they ever conspired to do so."

A hoarse laugh broke free as Peter wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "Ed's right. You do know what to say to make me see sense. All right, maybe it's not my fault. But, whoever did this…it will be the last thing they do. We're going to find them."

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! Ahem, I hope you enjoyed this slightly lighter chapter (don't let Peter cook for you...ever). Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one.**


	5. Chapter Five: One More Breath

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Five: One More Breath

He sharpened his blade, enjoying the strike of stone against steel almost as much as he enjoyed steel cutting deep into flesh. Setting the sharpening stone aside, he opened the long, narrow box of carved teak wood. Careful to hold his breath, he coated the dagger in the fine powder. Mergu Tedraja, the Slow Death, when activated by contact with liquid, water or blood, it seeped into its victim's body and wracked them with convulsions as it attacked their lungs, cutting off their air supply over a matter of weeks, while rendering them blind. It was a slow and agonizing death and there was but one antidote, an antidote he had not troubled himself to bring when he was forced to come here.

"You are very confident for someone who has failed a very simple task twice, Angra."

He tensed, fingers wrapping around the ornate hilt of his dagger, and glared at the cloaked and hooded figure. "I have ensured my man will be in place to carry out your most pressing task, O Master of Sorcerers."

The hint of a red flash beneath the deep hood made his fingers tighten even further around the dagger. But, there was only scorn in the cursed one's voice, no spell. "Do not think that empty Calormene flatteries will convince me to forget what I have seen, Angra."

"I am not Angra! I am-"

"The product of one of the Tisroc's many dalliances and had you been born on the right side of the blanket to a Calormene girl instead of a Lone Islander, you would currently be third in line for the throne."

He froze as this devil from the far north tossed his harlot of a mother's shame in front of him. How he hated this creature. "She is dead."

"Not yet. Lew's Daughter yet clings to life. Though I provided a strong wind to push the Narnian ship to the Seven Isles as swiftly as possible without incurring their suspicion and then enabled your ship to reach Ettinsmoor within the span of six hours, you still did not accomplish your task. I should have recalled the Werewolves, after all."

He sneered at the sorcerer. "If your magic is so powerful, why not strike the Narnian witch down?"

"Because she is protected! Like the Four, Lew's Daughter is favored by the Great Cat and He notices when someone uses magic to strike against His favored ones. I am not so stupid as my predecessors to believe that the Great Cat will not use something more powerful than my own magic to stop me. I do not want His attention, which is why you and your self-proclaimed followers will carry out the rest of the tasks perfectly."

"What of the woman?"

The flash of red appeared within the shrouded depths of the hood once more. "The Great Cat's means of cheating death will not reach her in time. I have seen that she will not last more than two days and nights…my storm will keep the little queen and her vial away that long."

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There was a storm in the distance, its grey curtain illuminated by flashes of lightning, but it came no nearer to Cair Paravel than it had over the last two days and it brought no relief to the oppressive heat. Oreius feared the Morning Dove was caught in that squall. And if the cordial did not come soon… He shook his head and forced his attention back to his paperwork. He could not think like that. A brightly colored Humming Bird darted into his study and whispered in his ear, "The healers request your presence. Quickly."

Alarm coursed through him but he forced himself not to gallop, not to draw too much attention. Too many whispers filled the Cair concerning his Alambiel as it was and he had doubled the guard on her room as a result. The junior healers were preoccupied with various tasks, but two emerged from the hall leading from the main room to the smaller, private rooms and they did not meet his eyes. He fought back the fear that sought to sink its claws into him even as he forced down the growing urge to gallop into the room. It was only a few more steps.

Passing the guards, he pushed the door open and entered the room he was now far too familiar with. Tuulea and Alithia were standing beside the bed, blocking his view of Alambiel, while Tanith was gathering several bloodstained cloths. He could hear Alambiel's labored breaths…they were even fainter than they had been when he left this morn, but she still breathed. She still breathed. "What happened?"

The healers stilled for a moment then Tanith slipped past him, not meeting his gaze. Alithia turned to face him, allowing him to see how pale his lady was beneath the discoloring bruises and bandages. His breath caught in his chest when he spied the flecks of red at the corner of her mouth before Tuulea wiped it away. He met Alithia's grey eyes and waited. "She stopped breathing a few minutes ago."

"But, she is breathing now." He did not comment on how frail and faint those breaths were but neither Tuulea nor Alithia pointed it out. "The Valiant will come. Soon."

Alithia touched his arm. "Not soon enough."

He pulled away, moving toward the bed. "Don't."

"Oreius, I am telling you this as your friend. Alambiel isn't-"

"She is a survivor and she need only survive a little while longer. The Valiant _will_ come," he stated emphatically. His fingers curled in her hair. "A day, perhaps two more and then she will have cordial."

Alithia touched his shoulder, but he pulled away. "Oreius, she is dying and she doesn't have another day or two. Alambiel should not be alive right now. They injured her too severely. You know this; no matter how much you try to deny it, you know this is true. She fought to escape and she has fought far longer than we expected to stay, but this is not a fight she can win any longer."

Oreius shook his head once. "No. She can survive a little longer and that is all she needs to survive, just for a little while longer. She's never been one to do as she was told. Why would she listen to anyone who says she cannot survive long enough for the cordial?"

The Centauress sighed then murmured, "It's not her choice anymore. Tuulea, tell him."

"Young one, you are not the only one who loves Alambiel." The Black Elder Nymph reached over Alambiel to touch his hand, which was still tangled in her golden hair. He reluctantly looked up to meet her sorrow-filled gaze, the one who was as close to both dam and grandam as Alambiel ever had. Tuulea closed her eyes for a moment then opened them again, this time with tears shimmering in them. "But, she is bleeding internally and her right lung is perilously close to collapse. The ones who did this to her broke so many bones that it is nearly impossible to treat her without aggravating some injury or risking her lungs being punctured. It's time to let her go."

The vise around his heart squeezed painfully tight. He could not accept it. He would not accept it. "No."

"Oreius-" Alithia cut herself off as Alambiel gasped then coughed. Her breathing grew more distressed then it stopped. "Move. Oreius, get back."

As the healers fluttered with quick efficiency around Alambiel's bed, Oreius counted heartbeats as he strained to hear even the softest of breaths. He clenched his hands into fists, wishing there was some way he could do something to help her, wishing he could turn back time and stop the abduction before his Alambiel suffered such hurt. But, it was pointless to contemplate such things. All he could do was stand back and pray she breathed again. Relief, sharp and cool, filled him when he heard the faint gasping breaths resume. But, they sounded even weaker than before and he could not deny the grim looks exchanged by the healers. "Tell me."

"Her right lung has collapsed." Alithia shook her head then moved to the side. "This is the end, Oreius. I'm sorry."

He wanted to argue. But, she looked so much worse. Her lips were tinged with blue now and her breaths were growing fainter by the minute…and he could not do so much as hold her hand. Moving closer, he touched her hair again, twining a golden strand around his finger. Bowing his head, he pressed a kiss to the soft lock. Alambiel's breathing grew more distressed again and he knew, he knew he was losing her this time, that he would not see her again until he too went to Aslan's Country.

_Aslan…_

The sound of boots slamming against the marble floors pulled Oreius' attention toward the door. His dark colt burst into the room. "The Dove is at the harbor!"

Oreius galloped past the colt. Alambiel's rattling, gasping breaths still haunted him, filling his ears even as he raced out of the Cair's gates. _Please, Alsan. Let her stay._ Unheeding of the heat, he stretched himself, pushing the bounds of his endurance until he clattered across the dock. The Morning Dove was still being brought in and he spotted Queen Lucy standing next to the railing. The Valiant saw him and even from where he was, he could see the color drain from her face. She spun and shouted at the crew, but the answer was not what she wanted and not what he wanted.

The memory of Alambiel's desperate gasps with the death rattle slowly seeping into them haunted him and he moved as near the edge of the pier as he could. Queen Lucy reached down and he caught a glimpse of the cordial in her hand before her arm went back and then the vial hurtled through the air. Oreius reared and stretched out his arm, unsure of whether she had thrown it hard enough to reach him. _Aslan._ The cordial landed just on the tips of his outstretched fingers and he brought up his other hand, cupping the precious treasure securely.

Wheeling around, he raced back to the Cair. Sweat and lather formed as he pushed himself harder. He had to reach Alambiel. The High King, his bride, and the Gentle had joined King Edmund and they scattered as Oreius charged into the room. Alambiel gasped then she stopped breathing entirely. Tuulea snatched the cordial from his hand and administered one ruby drop between Alambiel's blue-tinged lips. Panting, Oreius watched and waited and prayed that he had made it in time, that the cordial had been administered in time. Again, he counted heartbeats even as he regulated his own breathing. He was only half-aware of how sweat and lather dripped off his body as he strained to hear Alambiel breathe again even as he ignored the whispering doubt in the back of his mind that he had lost her, that he had once again failed her when she needed him.

Finally, he heard it. A deep, shuddering breath then another and another until Alambiel's breathing settled into a deep, restful pattern. Oreius exhaled softly, releasing the breath he had not realized he'd been holding. She was alive. She was healed. Tuulea frowned at him just then and made a shooing gesture. "All of you out while we remove the bandages. Some of you may return after we are done. Others," she gave him a pointed look, "may only return after they have made themselves presentable."

Oreius bowed his head in silent acknowledgment. This time he did not protest being ushered out with the colts and fillies. This time he knew Alambiel was healed. And when she woke, she would remember. She would remember everything, including him,

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! **


	6. Chapter Six: Waking

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Six: Waking

9 Twirleaf 1008

Lucy looked around the room. She had only just made it to the healers' wing to check on Kat when Susan pulled her into one of the empty private rooms where Tuulea, Alithia, Thalia, and Leeta (since the Nymph had followed her from the ship) had gathered. "Kat is healed, why are you still concerned about Oreius being present?"

"The cordial has healed her _physical_ wounds," Tuulea said gently. "However, before you arrived, my Queen, she woke once completely disoriented and with no memory of anyone, including Oreius."

Lucy's brow furrowed. "But, if she received a head wound-"

Tuulea raised her hand. "There is no way to know if the memory loss was, indeed, caused by the head trauma or by some other means until she wakes."

"Oreius refuses to listen to us on this matter," Alithia added. The Centauress flicked her tail as she continued, "But, he never allowed himself to open his heart to anyone the way he has to Alambiel. He needs to believe she will return to him as he remembers her because to think otherwise would break his heart. He would never admit such a thing, of course, but it is true. If she were to wake and not recognize him…"

"Well, Oreius will have to consult with Peter and Edmund tomorrow about what we recovered at Redhaven before leaving," Lucy offered. She frowned, considering what Alithia and Tuulea implied about Kat and whether or not she would remember them. Her mouth formed a perfect 'o' as she realized what else that might mean. "But, if she was frightened by Oreius, she could be frightened by you, Alithia, or anyone else who doesn't look Human."

Tuulea nodded, looking grim. However, it was Thalia who voiced what they had all realized was the only solution for now. "We shall have to ensure the Princess Royal does not wake to faces that will only frighten her…and keep the General away until she wakes and we know how she will react."

The words sprang to Lucy's lips, but Susan took her hand in a firm yet gentle grasp before she could volunteer. Her sister gave her a look that brooked no argument. "You need to rest too, Lucy. I'll ask Oreius to escort you, Thalia, and me back to our wing. Then, Alithia, perhaps you can meet him before he returns to Kat's sickroom and maybe coax him into sharing a meal with you and Ardon?"

The Centauress gave a swift nod. "I will take care of it."

"And I shall sit with Alambiel tonight," Tuulea stated firmly. "We will devise a schedule for the most familiar-looking of us to sit with her until she wakes tomorrow morn while Oreius is overseeing the Kings' training."

Lucy nodded her agreement to the plan, though, in truth, she hoped Oreius was right. Still, when she saw him up close and realized he looked just a touch drawn, she knew it was good to keep Oreius out of the sickroom for a while. _I hope the worst is over. Surely, it must be over._ It was not until she woke the next morning that she realized she might have invoked Kat's beloved nemesis Murphy and his law.

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10 Twirleaf 1008

"The scouts couldn't find any sign of her trail?" Peter surveyed the reports then touched a mark on the map. "If Kat was found here, then perhaps we can simply form an expanded search of the area. She couldn't have run far, a mile maybe two?"

He glanced at Oreius, but the Centaur merely pondered the map. "She ran farther."

Peter exchanged a look with his brother before questioning, "What makes you say that?"

"While she was severely injured, my Kings, I believe Alambiel traveled farther than any assumed she might be able to because our scouts would have met with resistance if the filth who abducted her had their lair nearby." The Centaur's face was as expressive as stone but there was a barely detectable edge to his voice that promised the villains would not live long to regret going after Kat.

"This is true, but I had hoped it would be close to the border." Peter shook his head with a sigh. "If we venture too far into Ettinsmoor, the Giants _will_ notice." He paused, almost hating that he needed to even consider it. "Are we certain the Giants weren't involved somehow? Perhaps the ones at Harfang?"

Edmund immediately shook his head. "This is too refined for Giants to be involved, even the lot of brutes at Harfang." A faint smirk appeared as he added, "They're only somewhat less stupid than the Ettins, after all. Besides, my spies have reported that the Northern Giants are busy fighting each other again rather close to Harfang as luck would have it." His brother grew serious again as he pulled out a tightly wrapped square of fabric. "This is what Lieutenant Dalibor's men found when they were alerted to Ptah's condition."

Untying the twine and pulling back the folds of fabric, Peter frowned at the three darts, smooth wood with black feathers on one end and a metal point at the other. They looked most innocuous save for the fact that two were covered in dried blood and fur and the other had a few reddish stains around the tip but the rest of the point was coated in some sort of sap. He reached toward it, meaning to examine it more closely, but Oreius captured his wrist in an iron grip. Peter looked up but the Centaur's gaze was not fixed on him. Instead, those dark eyes were focused on the darts with a flicker of something…recognition, he thought, deep within their depths. "Do not touch them, High King."

"Why? You recognize them? How?"

The Centaur abruptly let go of his wrist. His jaw worked for a moment then he ground out a single word. "Veri."

"Veri… But, Ninklim and his organization was destroyed. We hunted them down with King Garai's help a year ago."

Oreius remained unmoved. "But, not every patron. Ninklim's men could have been receiving the darts from one of those who visited Veri or it is possible the same supplier was used. These are highly potent sleeping darts. Four are fatal to Humans." His impassive look did not change as he pointed to the single dart absent of any fur. "Where was this one found?"

Edmund glanced at him before turning to their general. "Inside Hadassah House…Lieutenant Dalibor was certain that it struck Kat. We're just not sure how exactly it was left behind among her things."

"Oreius?" Peter waited but the Centaur did not answer, seeming lost in his thoughts or perhaps his memories of all that happened in Veri. "Oreius, your and Kat's reports indicated that Ninklim was trying to sell Kat to the highest bidders. Perhaps we should look into them, see what they are up to now."

"Yes, and where they are. If one of them has ventured north, then he might be the one responsible for abducting Kat." Edmund looked pleased as he caught on to Peter's train of thought.

With a heavy sigh, Oreius turned to them. "Haroun, Orfeo, and Mordad. Those were the ones Ninklim sought to sell Alambiel to in Veri, they were the ones who watched her the most, and I know they were not among those captured when Veri fell."

"We'll find them," Peter hoped Oreius believed him even as he wished they had tracked these men down last year. But, Aslan willing, they would remedy that mistake. And soon.

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The only sounds filling the room were those of soft, but thankfully steady breaths and the equally soft click of knitting needles. Susan had been stitching a banner to replace one of the ones Peridan's twin sons had accidentally sheared in two when they knocked a battle-axe over (no one was quite sure how they managed such mischief this time), but then Edmund's valet had confided to her that he had worn holes in nearly all of his socks…again. Kat had stirred about two hours earlier but she had quickly settled down again. It was rather like her body was simply trying to catch up on restful sleep now that it no longer needed to fight to stay alive.

Drawing the hunter green yarn through the loop to join another stitch, Susan paused as Kat stirred again. This time her arm moved, drawing up to rub against a furrowed brow. Crushing the half-finished sock into a ball, Susan leaned forward, watching closely as Kat laid her hand across her eyes then sighed. She didn't say anything, not wanting to surprise her.

Instead, she slowly set her knitting in the basket by her feet then rose from her chair. She knew the older woman would be thirsty. She glanced over her shoulder as she poured some tea into a cup and barely held in a cry of joy as Kat pushed herself up and looked around. She didn't seem to notice Susan at first; instead, sliding out of bed to pad over to the window. Susan made a note to fetch Kat a robe to go over her shift before they summoned Oreius. She cleared her throat as she approached. "You must be parched. Here, the tea will help."

Kat took the tea and drank it with only a slight grimace (she had forgotten to add a little more sugar). "Thank you." She looked out the window again, seeming lost in thought.

Finally, Susan could wait no longer. "How are you feeling?"

Kat looked at her and gave a little shrug while offering a faint smile. "Tired. Though, I feel certain I've been lying about for days on end."

"Today is the tenth of Twirleaf so it's been just under a fortnight," Susan answered the unasked question. She braced herself for a question as to who she was, but Kat didn't say anything. She merely nodded and took another sip of her tea. Susan half-turned then paused. "I'll fetch Tuulea and a robe for you. There's more tea on the stand over there." She hurried out to get Tuulea.

At first, the Nymph was cautious but when they opened the door, Kat was adding sugar to the tea and muttering under her breath. She glanced at them and gave a half-wave before she took a drink, grimaced, and promptly added another spoonful of sugar. They stepped back out, pulling the door close, and Tuulea nodded. "Very well, we shall inform Oreius she is awake. Oh and-"

"I'll fetch a robe for her." Susan smiled and squeezed Tuulea's hand. "The cordial worked."

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Queen Lucy burst into the room. "She's awake! Kat's awake!"

Oreius tensed and looked at the Kings. "Your Majesties, I-"

He didn't even get the words out before the High King waved his hand, grinning broadly. "Go, Oreius. I'm sure she wants to see you as much as you wish to see her."

Offering a hurried bow, Oreius wheeled about and made his way to the healers' wing as quickly as he dared. His Alambiel was awake and she was herself. Thank Aslan. Entering the healers' wing, he noted Tuulea holding a hushed conversation with Alithia. The Black Elder Nymph did not stop him as he headed for Alambiel's sickroom.

Oreius opened the door, anxious to see Alambiel's improved state for himself. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hair tamed into a thick braid. She was wearing a robe and, though she had lost weight, she looked far closer to healthy than she had just yesterday. "Alambiel."

Alambiel turned at the call. Her blue eyes were questioning, but there was something odd… Oreius' breath caught as he registered the blankness, the lack of recognition in her eyes. Then, something changed. Eyes widening and filling with fear, Alambiel shrank back. She raised her arms as though to protect herself from a blow. She cried out in fear, no, in terror. "No! No! Stop!"

As Queen Susan and Leeta rushed to her side, Oreius instinctively stepped forward. Everything in him ached to comfort her, to reassure her that she was safe, but she scrambled backwards, tripping and falling until she cowered against the wall. Still screaming in terror…at him, she was afraid of him. Shaken, Oreius retreated. Tuulea touched his arm. "I am sorry, young one." Then she slipped into the room to help calm the situation. Oreius backed away from the door and the muffled sobs behind it. The vise that had been absent for a short day tightened itself with vengeance around his heart. His Alambiel did not know him…the cordial had not worked.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! If you want to refresh your memory on Veri, it is found in my story _A Light in the Darkness: Rekindled_. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about everything.**

**A/N2: Just a little reminder to all you lovely readers - while I completely understand and relate to being caught up in the story when you review, I do ask that y'all remain mindful of the language you use in your reviews since there are kids who get on here and browse the reviews too. Thank you. :)**

**A/N3: Jesus' girl 4ever has made two outstanding trailers for the first two entries in my ALitD main story arc: _Awakened _and _Shadowed_. **

**Awakened trailer: www . godtube There is a period and a (c) then an (o) and (m) then a forward slash here watch/?v=0MBJBJNU **

**Shadowed trailer: www . godtube (same as above) watch/?v=W6L7DPNX**

**Just take out the spaces or you can use the complete links on my profile, which will be much easier due to FF's silliness. Do let me know what y'all think of them! :D And thank you, Jaygee! :D**


	7. Chapter Seven: Sortilege

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Seven: Sortilege

He sat in front of a fire, eating a roasted rat. The little beast had actually tried to bargain his way out of this fate, and had the hunt been more successful, he would not have cooked it. But, the rat was much plumper than others…it made a good enough meal. For now.

"The Narnians will never forgive you for that, Angra."

"I am not Angra!" He leapt to his feet, hand darting to the ornate dagger at his belt, and spun to face the sorcerer. "Angra was the name of a powerless beggar. I am neither a beggar nor powerless. I collected rarities and lived like a Tarkaan before you forced me to travel to this barbaric wasteland! I am-"

"Quite long-winded." There was a flash of red from beneath the black hood but the sorcerer's tone was one of amusement and no little amount of mockery. "However, if it will keep you from interrupting me with your rants, I will call you by the name you stole for your own. Mordad."

Mordad narrowed his eyes at the sorcerer. How could he know what he had done to change the fate his useless mother had condemned him to? But, he sensed this visit was not solely for the purpose of taunting him with some of the secrets the sorcerer had blackmailed him with and he bowed. "Forgive my outburst, O Master of Sorcerers. Has Ishara Reborn perished? As you planned."

The sorcerer struck him, knocking him down to one knee. "Remember your place, Mordad. It is only by my sufferance that you still live in spite of your failures."

"Of course," Mordad said, playing the subservient until he found an opportunity to rid himself of the yoke this Tash-cursed sorcerer sought to fasten about his neck.

There was another flash of red within the depths of the hood but the sorcerer did not strike him again. Instead, he moved off, the tattered hem of his black cloak dragging across the cave floor until he paused before a bloodstained chair. "This is where you held her."

It was not a question and Mordad made no attempt to answer. His blight of a benefactor did not need him to answer. "Six days of questioning, six days of torture and she did not break. And she still draws breath…"

Mordad hid a sneer. "Oh Master of Sorcerers, by what means did these barbarians counter your spell? Surely, you are too powerful to be defeated by ordinary means."

"The captain of the little queen's ship was more skilled than I suspected. He used my storm to his advantage, but still Lew's Daughter should have died, would have died, had the Centaur not interfered. Had they waited for the little queen to bring them the cordial, Lew's Daughter would be dead." The sorcerer turned back to him and a sense of dread attempted to trap Mordad but he hardened his heart against it. "Contact your man."

"I cannot." Mordad forced himself to bow his head as though to a superior. "My man knows his task and will contact me when it is complete, not before so as to avoid the risk of detection."

The sorcerer moved closer. Reaching down, his hand clamped around Mordad's throat and then he hefted him to his feet. Mordad resisted the urge to show any distress even as the sorcerer's grip tightened and he lifted him up so they were now face-to-face. But, he could not deny the tendril of fear that rose within him when he caught sight of the red glowing eyes sheltered within the hood. _Demon._ "Pray to whatever gods you believe in, Mordad, that your man does not fail this next step of the plan or I shall resort to different measures that do not require your services."

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one and what you think will happen next. **

**A/N2: Another head's up to let y'all know that Jaygee (Jesus' girl 4ever) has made fantastic trailers for my stories _Revealed_ (you can see Hendrik and Heikki!) and _Concealed_. The links are in my profile. Watch them and do let me know what y'all think about them! :)**


	8. Chapter Eight: Veiled

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Eight: Veiled

_The wind caressed her face and she closed her eyes, turning toward it. Then, the touch of the wind was replaced with calloused fingers that lightly skimmed her jaw and chin. She didn't open her eyes as warm breath not her own tickled her lips. "You are my heart, do not forget." _

_Her own voice echoed in her ears, a contented whisper. "Never, I promise." She opened her eyes, wanting, no, needing to see him. _

_Whatever had stirred in her heart died when the gentle caress was replaced with a hard, crushing grip. Fear and pain wrapped around her as the ropes dug into her clothing and skin. The sickly smooth voice assaulted her ears. "Tell me where it is. Tell me so I don't have to hurt you again, Fair One. Come now, Ishara Reborn. Look at me. Look at me!" The fingers dug in harder, bruising as blunt nails cut into her skin, and forced her to turn her head. Her eyes widened and terror gripped her as a twisted, dark, leering face loomed in front of her. She jerked away, screaming._

She sat up, panting. Sweat had plastered her shift to her back and a number of tendrils that had escaped her braid clung damply to her forehead and neck. She kicked at the covers, needing to escape all confines, and bolted out of bed. She pressed her hand against her ribs, checking for something she couldn't remember, and then raised her trembling hands before her eyes. She…she had to regain control.

Taking deep, calming breaths, she moved to the window and opened it, allowing the sounds of the distant ocean and somewhat closer chatter of people in. _Breathe._ A light tap at the door seemed to be what she needed to regain her composure. Her breathing steadied and she forced her hands to still, turning away from the window as the door opened and the Nymph from the day before came in. She scrambled for a name… The Nymph smiled in a motherly fashion and the name slid into place. She smiled back, dipping her head slightly. "Tuulea."

Something about her greeting must have been wrong for the Nymph, Tuulea, did not look pleased for the briefest of moments. But then Tuulea smiled again and she felt herself relax. She hadn't even realized she had been tense. "Alambiel. How do you feel?"

She swallowed hard then offered a shrug. "I am…confused, still. But, physically, I do feel well." Her mind recoiled from the memory of the nightmare and her tongue seemed to stick to the roof of her mouth at even the thought of speaking of it. No, no, she could not force herself down that path just yet.

Tuulea moved closer, reaching up to touch her cheek. "You are pale still, little one. And it seems the heat is still effecting you. Are you feeling overly warm?"

She shook her head. "N-no. I am well. I'm just…I think I overslept since it's already almost noon judging by the sun's position."

"Do not be concerned, Alambiel. We all understand." Tuulea picked up a dark blue robe and helped her into it. "You will, however, need to remain in the healers' wing another night or two for observation. I want to ensure you are quite recovered."

"Save for my memory, you mean." The words left a bitter taste on her tongue and she instantly regretted them. "Forgive me, I shouldn't have said that."

Tuulea's dark brown eyes filled with sympathy and something inside started to bristle then relaxed as she realized Tuulea didn't feel an empty pity for her. "I know this is difficult. But, Aslan willing, you will unlock your memories again."

She frowned slightly at the emphasis on yet another unknown name but it hardly mattered. She knelt and clung to Tuulea's hands, feeling like a child turning to her mother (though she could not explain it). "Tuulea, Tuulea, you would tell me if I were married, right? I…I don't think I could stand it if I have forgotten someone as important as a husband." She thought for a moment that she heard something outside but then she shook her head. Tightening her grip on Tuulea's hands, she allowed just a hint of the distress swallowing her to enter her voice. "If I'm walking by my husband without ever realizing it, I don't know that… Please tell me I have not had that much stolen from me. Please, Tuulea."

"Oh, Alambiel," Tuulea whispered as she knelt on the floor and wrapped her arms around her. "Oh, you poor child." Her hand pet her hair as the Nymph whispered the words she needed to hear, "No, you are not wed." There was a pause, almost as if Tuulea had changed her mind about what to say before she repeated herself. "You are not wed, Alambiel. You will not be walking by your husband unawares."

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_"__Please tell me I have not had that much stolen from me."_

Oreius shook his head as he attempted to focus on his paperwork. If only he could have entered the room and reassured Alambiel that she would be all right again, that he would wait until she remembered him again. But, he had not dared to push the door open, to speak. He would only frighten her again.

_Would learning that she has forgotten someone who loves her and had every intention of wedding her cause her any less distress?_ He slammed his fist down on the desk, uncaring for the way it disturbed his papers. He knew the answer. It pained him, but he knew that Alambiel would be overwhelmed and even more afraid if she knew of what they had had together. She was too afraid of him for him to risk it.

"Aslan…I do not know how this is Your will, but I beg You to help her. Comfort her as I cannot any longer." The words tore at him almost as much as Alambiel's anguished petition to Tuulea. Bowing his head, Oreius knew what he needed to do now.

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Their steps were whisper-soft. Susan exchanged a worried look with Lucy as Alithia met them at the doors to Kat's quarters. Oreius' message had been quite cryptic. He was waiting for them inside. Susan noted that he looked far more stern and impassive than he had in a very long time, at least when there was not a battle immediately at hand. The Centaur bowed slightly. "Majesties, Alithia, thank you for coming."

Susan exchanged another look with Lucy before they both looked at Alithia. Lucy stepped forward, her sweet face earnest. "You said you needed us to help. What is it? What can we do?"

"You are aware that I must remove the sensitive documents in Alambiel's care before she is released from the healers' wing. However, I am in need of your aid in removing other items." He paused then gestured to Kat's bedchamber. "Anything you find that would reveal our courtship needs to be removed."

"But, Oreius, are you certain this is a good idea?" Susan shook her head. "How can she remember if we don't allow her access to the best clues?"

Those dark eyes went flat. "What help will it be for her to be confronted with a relationship she does not want? My Queens, you saw Alambiel's reaction to me. This is the wiser choice," Oreius stated stiffly.

She didn't think he believed his own words, but she placed a staying hand on Lucy's arm before her sister could protest. "What are we looking for?"

"Letters, jewelry, anything that might give away we had something more than friendship between us." Oreius' words were clipped and devoid of all the emotions Susan knew he must be experiencing. He returned to Kat's study.

They stood in silence for a few minutes. Susan watched the Centaur General who had stood by her and her siblings for eight years sorting through Kat's less than tidy paperwork, jaw tight, but other than that he was too controlled. Sighing, she nudged Lucy and nodded to the bedchamber while Alithia went to check the bookshelf in the corner of the sitting room. Her little sister pushed the door to then whispered, "Can't we leave one thing, Su? One thing of them together for her to find?"

Much as she disliked doing so, Susan shook her head. "No. You heard Oreius, he doesn't want her stumbling across anything before she's ready."

"I know," Lucy sighed as they started with the easiest place – Kat's jewelry box. "It's just so sad that it took six years for them to realize they loved each other and now Kat's not getting much of a chance to remember on her own."

Susan nodded. "It is, but for now he might be right about not overwhelming her." She tapped the golden crown nestled in the bottom of the jewelry box. "This will be difficult enough for her at the moment."

She frowned as she surveyed the rather minimal contents then pulled out a flat case that had been resting next to the crown. Opening it, Susan stared at the elegantly simple necklace with its silver chain and oval-shaped pedant formed of silver eternal knots cradling an amethyst teardrop and the smaller matching pendant earrings. Kat wore them almost every time she had to participate in a formal banquet as the Princess Royal. After their courtship had been revealed, she had finally confessed that Oreius had given them to her when they first began courting not quite a year ago. Susan closed the case and carefully set it aside. The gold half hoop earrings could be left where they were as well as several bracelets that had been Christmas and birthday gifts from Lucy and her when they were trying to help Kat look just a tad less like a warrior as the Princess Royal. There were a few simple necklaces that Kat rarely wore and one ornate star-cut sapphire pendant and diamond chain necklace that they wouldn't let her return after King Lune so graciously presented it to her for rescuing Corin from a Werewolf. She had worn it exactly one time because they had all ordered her to do so for Lune's welcoming dinner in the days leading up to Peter's wedding.

Kat's hair beads, two sapphire beads with the silver etchings of a rampant lion and a stylized sunburst, and her silver thumb ring were gone. Susan started to shut the jewelry box when Lucy pointed at something tucked behind the crown. "Is that what I think it is?"

Susan gave a little laugh as Lucy pulled out the small ornate dagger. "I'm afraid it is." She paused and Lucy looked at her with wide blue eyes. Then they spun around and shouted, "Oreius!"

Their call brought both Centaurs to the door, but it was Oreius who spoke. "Where did you find that one?"

"In her jewelry box," Lucy said, handing the dagger to him.

"And what about all of her other knives?" Susan smoothed some wrinkles on her skirts as she tried to find a kind way to put her next thought into words. "It is, well, it is a risk to leave her armed when she may be startled by someone she doesn't know is her friend."

Oreius gave a curt nod. "You speak the truth, my Queen. I have already removed the knives she left in her study, but we shall have to search out the rest of her knives as well."

It was a long process, figuring out where Kat had hidden her frighteningly large collection of knives. They were hidden under the mattress, in a groove in the headboard, beneath three pillows, and in the false bottom of the washstand's drawer. They currently had a dozen knives plus another dozen Oreius and Alaithia had found stashed in the sitting room and study laid out on the bed. Susan pulled another small dagger out of a dancing slipper. "She has too many knives."

"Kat doesn't think so," Lucy mumbled. "Where else do we need to look?"

"Bottom drawer of the wardrobe," Oreius stated.

Susan's eyes widened as they pulled open the drawer. There were stacks of drawing notebooks, a number of drawing implements, and two carved wooden boxes. She opened the top notebook and gasped at the remarkable likeness of Peter and Thalia dancing at their wedding. The next sketch was one of herself surrounded by her ladies. The next of Lucy and Edmund racing along the beach with the Wolves bounding after them. And the next sketch was of Oreius…he looked content and there was softness to his eyes. Feeling as though she had intruded upon their privacy, Susan quickly shut the notebook. "I didn't realize how much Kat drew, if all of these are filled…"

"Remove those as well."

She looked up in surprise, but Oreius' face was set in the same stern lines as before. She glanced at Alithia who silently held her hands out for the notebooks. Lucy opened the boxes. "The letters."

Oreius opened the top letter of one stack then replaced it. He took the other box without looking at the letters. "Leave that box. It has nothing she cannot know about in it." The impassive look wavered for a single moment before he set the box next to Kat's knives, notebooks, and the jewelry case. "Now, for the rest of her weapons."

Stepping forward, Oreius lifted the false bottom of the large drawer. Susan heard Lucy gasp and her own breath caught at the sight of the carefully organized collection of knives and short swords. She did a quick count and came up with twenty-one blades not including the five empty spaces. "She has too many knives…and this isn't even counting her grandfather's claymore and Chrysaor."

Oreius did not reply. Alithia touched his shoulder but he merely turned away to look through the notebooks filled with Kat's drawings. He removed two and returned them to the drawer next to the drawing implements and the sole box of letters left. "She should still be able to draw if she wishes."

Susan's heart broke a little and she blinked back tears on behalf of two very dear friends. No, Oreius and Kat were family. And now, Oreius was removing all the testaments to their hard-won courtship just to keep Kat from suffering more confusion. _Oh Aslan, why did this happen to them?_

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Oreius stared at the contents of the jewelry case then, with a heavy sigh, he closed the lid. He couldn't give it to her, certainly not as he had planned, to represent their betrothal as was custom among Centaurs. Unlocking the desk drawer, he placed the case next to the one that held Alambiel's silver and amethyst jewelry. He started to close the drawer but stopped. Pulling out the small framed drawing of his Alambiel (her Christmas gift to him…the only self-portrait she had drawn), he brushed his fingers over the smile he now doubted he would ever see aimed at him again. "I am sorry I could not protect you." Gently setting the drawing back down, he closed the drawer and turned the key, locking away everything that represented his too short time with Alambiel. He prayed that one day she might remember or, at least, look at him with something other than fear.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review!**

**A/N2: Jaygee (Jesus' girl 4ever) has now made trailers for my stories _Rekindled_ and _Refracted_! The links are in my profile. Do let me know what y'all think of them. **


	9. Chapter Nine: Identity

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Nine: Identity

14 Twirleaf 1008

_"__Kat? Are you all right?"_

_She stared at the crown then quickly shut the lid, turning around as though that would make the jewelry box and its contents go away. She glanced at the younger Queen whose wide blue eyes were fixed on her and forced a smile. "I am…fine." Queen Lucy nodded then left at her sister's urging. _

_She sighed as she surveyed the room… _

_A hand…her hand painting with careful precision. She didn't want to mess up the Centauress now gracing the mural. She turned her head at the slightest scuff of a booted foot…_

_A voice she didn't recognize murmured, "Poor child. Katerina Alambiel…"_

_"__What is your name, child?"_

_She gazed up at the old man with his shock of white hair that stood on end and a pipe in hand. His eyes were kind. She liked him. She spoke in a much younger voice, "Alambiel." _

_His face blurred and morphed into something else, something dark and terrifying. Evil permeated his dark gaze and his lips twisted in a cruel smile. "Scream for me, Princess."_

She sat up, panting and struggling not give voice to the scream clawing at her throat. Her hands. They were trembling but whole. The sole evidence of any past trauma was the twin scars in the center of her hands, shaped like stars. But she couldn't remember how she had gotten them or the other scars (including a faded set of scars that crisscrossed her back, which she had the brief flash of clarity had once been raised but now were healed flat due to the cordial according to Tuulea) on her body and she had more than a few. Then again, she wasn't certain she wanted to remember those details.

She wrapped her arms around her knees, wishing she knew what to do, what to _think_. The dream that had frightened her was already fracturing into hazy pieces that made less sense than the complicated tale the Queens had told in their attempt to explain why she had a crown in the jewelry box they claimed was, indeed, hers. She felt…cold even though the day had already grown warm. Rubbing her arms, trying to warm herself, she finally crept from the bed. She didn't bother with the robe as she paused in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection. A woman with sickly pale skin, blonde hair with two streaks of white in the front that had mostly escaped from the thick braid, and dull, bloodshot, blue eyes with puffy shadows beneath them to complete the haggard appearance. A stranger stared back at her. Shaking her head, she whispered with a slight cringe at the brokenness in her own voice, "Who are you?"

_I don't know. I don't know. I don't know._ Even her thoughts mocked her inability to remember. She pushed back from the dressing table, needing to get away from the stranger in the mirror. Opening the balcony doors, she paced the small area, narrowly avoiding knocking into the chair and an empty easel. She clapped her hands over her ears as her thoughts broke apart and scattered then the most useless and frustrating bits came back to taunt her inability to chase them down and put them in some semblance of order. Katerina, Kat, Alambiel, Dame Sepphora, Princess, Princess Royal. How could she remember who she was when she had so many names?

_"__You are alone. No one cares that you're here, Princess."_ She shook her head again then grasped the balcony railing, her braid dangling over her shoulder as she stared down at the steep drop to the seaside cliffs. With a gasp, she straightened and backed up until her shoulders hit the sun-warmed marble of the wall. She was alone. She gasped again, this time trying not to cry as the sense of loneliness and isolation weighed down on her. Something inside her wanted to cry out to Someone greater, but she couldn't remember Who…or even how.

Sliding down to sit on the balcony floor, she drew her knees up to her chest then buried her face in her arms. She didn't move even as the sun rose higher in the sky. Too busy struggling to find some tenuous thread of sanity that made perfect sense with which to anchor herself in the midst of the choppy thoughts and flickering memories or nightmares. A soft gasp came from behind her and she jumped.

"Oh, My Lady, please forgive me," the raven-haired Nymph stammered as she knelt next to her, one tanned hand tentatively touching her arm. "It was not my intent to startle you, but you were gone from your bed." Her dark eyes were so black that she couldn't distinguish the Nymph's irises from her pupils but they were filled with honest concern. "I should summon Tuulea."

"No!" She surprised herself with the vehemence of her refusal. But, she couldn't take more of the disappointed and slightly hurt look in Tuulea's eyes whenever she said or did something wrong. "I- I'm fine." She forced herself to smile as she rose with Leeta's, yes, that was her name, help. She started to turn toward the rooms that had been her shelter from the bewildering existence that was the rest of this place…Cair Paravel. But then movement caught her eye. Pulling away from Leeta's guiding hands, she moved to the northernmost end of the balcony.

A Centaur was standing on the bluff overlooking the sea. His coal-black coat (yet her mind insisted on imagining he had one hoof decorated with a white pastern marking, although there was no way she could tell from this distance) was matched by his tail and his hair. His upper body was a dark tan. He stamped a hoof then wheeled around. There was a stern and controlled power that radiated from him as he moved back down the hill, heading toward the Cair…warrior, he moved like a warrior of great experience. He never looked up and for some inexplicable reason she was disappointed but then she never knew why she felt anything anymore.

"My Lady?"

"Who is that?" She nodded to the Centaur just before he disappeared from sight.

Leeta was giving her an odd look. "That…that was General Oreius."

"I need to talk to him."

She hurried to the bedroom doors, now spurred on by the small voice that insisted talking to the Centaur, this General Oreius would be a good thing. Her fingers just touched the door handle when Leeta spoke up. "My Lady, do you intend to go to him in your nightgown?"

She stopped and looked down. Turning back around, she managed to smile. "I doubt that would make a good impression, hmm?"

Leeta was kind enough not to point out that her current haggard appearance would be more likely to frighten small children than anything else. Instead, the Nymph insisted on seeing a bath was drawn and then she set out a silk dress that was a very light shade of blue, almost a blue-tinged white with a silver belt. She did not protest as she was more focused on attempting to pin down the thoughts that made her think the General would be a good person to talk to but they eluded her…as was quickly becoming the norm. She finally gave up on trying to figure it out when the pounding in her head grew to a constant, dull thrum as Leeta brushed out her hair. Her brow furrowed when she realized Leeta intended to leave her hair hanging loose.

_A hand buried in her hair and pulled her back just as she almost reached the door. She tried to scream but a gloved hand pressed a cloth roughly against her mouth and nose with a bruising force and a voice whispered, "I have you at last, little princess." The doll dropped from her fingers as the strong-smelling cloth took effect. The words taunted her as she succumbed. "How nice of you to give me a handy means of controlling you by leaving your hair nice and loose." _

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and pulled a small bowl toward her, already frantically feeling for the pins. Leeta was talking but she didn't register the words. She gasped, trying to control the fear, the panic. "I need to pin my hair up."

Leeta took the pins away. "I'll pin it up, My Lady. It's all right. I am going to pin it up for you."

She was grateful and focused on breathing steadily. For a moment, she thought she heard someone murmur that she needed to breathe with them, but it was just another trick of her mind. Her hands ached when she finally calmed enough to break their white-knuckled grip on the edge of the dressing table. A glance at the mirror proved she was even paler than before. Leeta had just slid the last pin in place, catching her hair up in a looped chignon.

The Nymph eyed her with no small amount of concern. "Are you certain you wish to see the General now, My Lady?"

Her mind flickered to a terrifying face and she shivered. "Was he the one from the sickroom?"

"Yes."

She stood up, smoothing her hands over her dress and the silver belt resting on her hips, trying to hide the slight tremor. "I will see him. I have to speak with him."

Leeta opened her mouth and the look on her face spoke of protest but then she sighed. "Ptah will guide you."

It seemed to take hours but they finally passed through halls decorated with rich tapestries and gleaming suits of armor…and filled with various creatures who stared at her, whispering when they weren't bowing their heads and murmuring, "Your Highness." She hated that part. The Leopard darted one last concerned look at her before he pointed a paw at a door that stood open. A Satyr with grey fur and spiraling corkscrew horns nodded to her then left just a tad faster than before. Ptah made to step forward but she instinctively lowered her hand and waved him back. The Leopard didn't look happy as he retreated to the open door. She swallowed hard, once again remembering the evil in the face that had glared down at her. She needed to take control, facing her fear would help her do that. She rapped twice on the closed door and waited.

A deep voice barked, "Come."

She pushed open the door and held her head high, trying to meet the General's eyes. Only he wasn't looking at her. Instead, the Centaur was focused on a report as he jotted something down on the half-filled parchment to the right of the report. She glanced around the study, noting the orderly stacks of reports that took up half his desk, covered several smaller tables and a large wooden filing cabinet. The only thing that didn't have reports stacked on it was a chair too small for a Centaur that was tucked in the corner. Meaning to comment on it, she turned and was struck by his piercing dark gaze.

Her eyes widened but she didn't feel terror or even fear. There was no evil in his dark eyes. His face was sternly noble and the angular planes seemed to stand out because of his clenched jaw, but there wasn't evil in him. A warrior, a dangerous foe, no doubt, but she knew somehow that he had no intention of hurting her…she just wished she knew _how_ she knew. "You're not scary at all."

He arched an eyebrow and she took a step back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that the way it sounded… Actually, I have no idea what I meant." She rubbed her arms, feeling the silk catch on her light callouses. "I- I should start over. What I meant was to ask if you…if you know me." He didn't respond and she grew more nervous, suddenly feeling like her tentative footing had vanished entirely. "Do you know me?"

"Yes," he stated curtly.

"Well?"

The Centaur stared at her for a long, uncomfortable minute and then he turned his attention to closing the report. "Do you know who I am?"

"You're General Oreius." At the sharp look, she felt the need to defend herself. "At least that is who Leeta told me you are." Her eyes were drawn to the movement of the report and she had the sudden compulsion to take the report from its organized resting place and flip through it to see what he had been looking at… _Great, I have delinquent tendencies._ Something else caught her eye and she blurted out, "Your desk has a dent in it."

It was recent as no one had added any stain to it and there were fine cracks in the wood radiating out from the large dent. She glanced at his hands again…it was the same size as his fist. He cleared his throat and she flushed, realizing she was doing the exact thing she so despised…staring at someone for no good reason. "You never answered my question."

He stared at her before answering tightly, "Some would have said we knew each other well. We were friends, at least."

He didn't want her there. That much was clear in his body language. She half-turned toward the door then paused. "General Oreius, what would you say my name is?"

"Your birth name is Alambiel. It is what you have taken to using once you accepted your heritage."

She hadn't wanted her heritage… Realizing he was still watching her, Alambiel bowed her head, feeling more comfortable now that someone other than Tuulea and Alithia had shared her proper name was Alambiel. It _was_ time to reclaim her name, after all. "Thank you, I'll, umm, I'll just be going now. I'm sorry for disturbing you." Hurrying out the door, she paused beside Ptah. Alambiel made herself smile at the Leopard's concern. "Know how to get down to that beach?"

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Oreius closed his eyes as he heard Alambiel leave. She hadn't been terrified of him this time, but she hadn't been comfortable around him either. The emptiness in her eyes remained…she still did not remember him and he had not dared to say anything more than they were friends. What if she had reacted by screaming in terror again? He couldn't do that to her, not after everything else she was dealing with and he had heard from Tuulea and Alithia that the night terrors were getting worse.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! Hopefully this chapter has clarified on Kat's condition and how much she's still not been told. Oh and am I still loathed? Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this chapter.**

**A/N2: Jaygee (Jesus' girl 4ever) has made trailers for my stories _Reflected_ (you can see Tarrin AND Leto) and _Veiled_. MissMelanieWilkes has also made two lovely banners for _Awakened _and_ Veiled_. The links are all in my profile. A big thank you to these talented ladies for making and sharing these great tie-ins with my series! I was floored when y'all did so. :D Do check them all out and please let me know what y'all thought. **


	10. Chapter Ten: Terror

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Ten: Terror

22 Twirleaf 1008

"You should see her."

"No."

"Oreius." Alithia stamped a hoof before she pointed at the door. "She is looking for anything to give her some footing. Alambiel doesn't even know who she can trust anymore and she is extremely wary, especially after the Valiant's attempt to help by bringing her to a tea two days ago. And she came to you once."

He sighed and turned away. "She does not need me to complicate this situation further and she was not comfortable when she came to me. And it would not take much to push her back into terror, would it?"

"You are being too protective in this case and too selfless by half." Alithia came up beside him and touched his shoulder. "Have you spoken to her even once since she tried to talk to you?

His jaw tightened and he could make no answer.

"You haven't then."

"Alambiel needs…time. I am giving her that."

"And removing your protection as her shield and confidant." The Centauress didn't flinch at his glare. Instead, her grey eyes met his defiantly and with more than a touch of censure. "Her night terrors are growing worse. You promised to be her shield well before love grew in your heart for her and you know it."

He closed his eyes. "When did they increase?"

"Eight days ago."

After she had come to see him then. After she had looked at him with lost, empty eyes. Oh Aslan, how could he mend the situation without making it worse? Perhaps he had already made it worse if Alambiel's night terrors had increased after their encounter. He looked at Alithia and forced himself to speak the words in spite of the heavy foreboding that this time he would not be able to help Alambiel, that he would not be able to shield her save from the effects of his own presence. "I will speak to her."

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Alambiel paced the room; the minimal yet still feminine decorations did not feel familiar. Of course, her own reflection was still of a stranger, though she didn't look quite so pale. The Leopard, Ptah, had woken her twice the night before due to nightmares she couldn't even remember. And then her days…

She ran her hands over her hair, trying not to feel overwhelmed–trying and failing. So many names. So many faces. And she couldn't recall any of them from before…from before everything became a blank slate. She was so very _tired_ of seeing that hurt in their eyes when she said or did something wrong, something that didn't match their memory of her, whoever she was. It was worse with the Kings and Queens…and Tuulea. Such hurt and disappointment in their eyes and nothing she did was right.

A soft cry of frustration escaped her as she whirled around. Alambiel felt the overwhelming need to run, to just leave, get out of this place before she brought any more hurt to the people who claimed she was a dear friend. She needed some place to go, to think, to...to hide. Pulling open the wardrobe, she dug through the dresses. Tossing the rejected ones behind her onto the bed, she muttered under her breath, "Isn't there something in here that doesn't come with a train?" She raised an eyebrow at the more elaborate dresses, feeling soft silks and velvets under her fingertips. She tossed them on the bed too.

She had reached the dresses tucked in the back of the wardrobe when she heard someone opening the doors to her chambers. Fear sent a cold chill down her spine and she silently climbed into the wardrobe, pulling the doors to until only the slightest crack remained. She could hear the intruder moving closer, but his or her steps were muffled by the rugs and she could not discern anything specific that might identify the being as friend or foe. Instinctively, she felt for a groove in the far back corner of the wardrobe and touched it, pushing it down and pulling out the dagger.

She heard armor clink and the creak of leather as a large shadow drew parallel with the wardrobe. Again, instinct took over and she flung the door open hard, following through with her dagger. A large hand grabbed her wrist while the other stopped the door. General Oreius was looking at her with something akin to shock. The words came from somewhere deep inside her, bubbling up in a taunting tone before she could stop them. "You needn't look so surprised. My greeting is naught less than you deserve, Kentauri."

His eyes widened and Alambiel felt the confidence slip away as it had never emerged. "I should not have said that."

The General shook his head and for a moment she thought she saw a glimmer of something in his dark eyes, was it…regret? But he spoke before she could apologize again. "It is all right. I should have announced myself." His fingers gently wrapped around hers and she stiffened at the whispering memory of someone else, of…

_A hand clamped around hers, pressing her hand flat against the low table that had been placed in front of the chair until they secured the rope bindings. She couldn't see him this time, but she knew he was there. She could hear him breathing. His favorite goon came forward, his too pretty face not so pretty now that she had broken his nose during her last escape attempt, and in his hand was a war hammer. Her captor whispered in her ear, brushing his stubble-covered jaw against her skin. "Now, your highness, tell us how to get in. Or you won't be able to paint the beautiful murals anymore."_

_This was going to hurt. The thought made her laugh through the blood dripping from her now broken nose. "Never."_

_"__As you wish, Ishara Reborn." _

_The goon swung the war hammer. Her bones crunched. The scream ripped past her clenched teeth…_

"Alambiel! Stop. It's all right. Listen to me. Focus on my voice, not his. Look at me. You are safe. I swear it, Alambiel, I swear you are safe."

She looked up…far up. The General stared down at her with obvious concern etched across his face. He still held the dagger. Alambiel looked down and realized she was on the floor with her hands clutched against her heart. Tears streamed down her face and her throat was hoarse. She could hear voices murmuring just outside her bedchamber. No, she couldn't be a spectacle again. "Make them go away."

At first, she didn't think he heard her but then he turned and walked to the open door. She tuned out the conversation as she finally pried her hands open and stared at them. They were whole.

"Was it a knife?"

Alambiel looked up again and spotted the General still standing in the doorway. She shook her head. "W-war hammer. He had my hand, my dominant hand crushed by a war hammer." She clamped both hands over her mouth as that horrible snippet of a memory replayed itself and the tears flowed unchecked. There was another whispered conversation but this time when she looked up, it was not the General who stood nearby, but Tuulea. The Nymph knelt next to her and Alambiel didn't protest or try to pull away when Tuulea pulled her close, murmuring soothingly against her hair. Nor did she breathe a word that for some reason the Nymph's mothering embrace was not the one she wanted most, that some piece of her wanted strong yet tender arms to hold her. None of it made any sense.

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23 Twirleaf 1008

Alambiel tugged nervously on her dress sleeves. The main reason she'd agreed to this little outing was because she had felt so bad about upsetting Queen Lucy earlier that week, and now... Now, her head hurt so much she wouldn't have been surprised if a hammer would have brought relief instead of pain. The man, a visitor from one of the islands, was walking so close to Lucy's side that Alambiel frowned. Why didn't someone make him back off?

He glanced over his shoulder at her and her head nearly exploded with pain. But, in the midst of the pain, she could hear voices.

_"Use this to kill the Queens. Careful. One nick and you will die a most agonizing death while wasting one of my most valuable weapons." _

_Nervous eyes glanced at her as she slumped forward against the ropes tying her to the chair. "Are you sure we should be talking in front of her?" _

_"She'll be dead, mysteriously vanished in the dark of the night."_

Her instincts reared again. _Lucy's in danger._ She saw a glint of a blade as the man pretended to stumble, pressing close to the bare flesh of Lucy's hand as she turned to help him. _No!_

She lunged forward, tackling the man away from Lucy. Ignoring the youngest Queen's terrified cry of one of her names, all Alambiel could think of was to get rid of the threat. They rolled down the slight hill, crashing into a flowerbed, flattening the late fall flowers. He reached back and she caught another glimpse of that poisoned blade in his hand. If it got near Lucy… She wrapped her arm around his neck, putting him in a chokehold before she placed her other hand on his face and then she gave a sharp twist. A crack filled the air and he went limp. She dropped him.

Scrambling to her feet, she stared down at the man. The count from the Lone Islands' rugged face was now lax in death. "Kat!" Queen Lucy's cry barely penetrated her thoughts as she continued to watch the man. More shouts and running feet. Alambiel didn't move. Her hands were shaking as she stared at his unseeing eyes. She'd killed him. Oh, she had killed him. What had she done? What was she really? She stared at her hands now. _What if he didn't crush the hand of an artist…but of a monster? What am I?_

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! O.o Umm... Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one.**


	11. Chapter Eleven: Disruption

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Eleven: Disruption

"Ow."

A laugh as soft and merry as the wind dancing through newly budded beech leaves was the only answer. Peter forced himself to frown. "Ow. Dear lady, do you know whose pain you mock?"

Thalia's light green eyes danced with mirth as she helped him out of his tunic then leaned forward to brush her lips against his. "A great warrior should be able to withstand the removal of his jerkin and tunic, should he not?"

Peter's grin broke free at his bride's cheekiness. "You showed very little tenderness, Flower." Privately, he was quite glad he had winced when Thalia lightly touched his side as it had garnered him her undivided attention even if Bast and Babur _had_ exchanged a knowing smirk before Thalia led him to their bedchamber. Now, her fingers skimmed a good-sized bruise he had received during training, which had darkened to a rather impressive shade of bluish-purple over the last six hours.

"Your brother?"

"Tarrin, actually. He was supposed to be guarding my back, but we had a slight miscommunication."

Thalia arched a delicate brow. "That much is clear, my lord husband." He winked at her then pulled her into his lap. "Peter!"

"Ah, that's much better," he murmured just before he pressed a tender kiss to her throat. "Now, Flower, it seems I have neglected a very important meeting with my wife. Do you think she might be available this afternoon?"

Her hands came up and her fingers buried themselves in his hair as he nuzzled her neck. "I believe she is; oh, but what of the meeting with the Lone Islanders?"

Peter ran his hand up her back until he found her laces. "Hmm? Ed and Lu can take care of them. No need for our involvement this afternoon." Toying with the loose ends of the laces, he captured her mouth in a fervent kiss.

Thalia didn't make another protest as he rose from the chair with her gathered against his chest. He had only taken a single step toward their bed when a commotion rose outside the doors and then a furry body hurtled into the room. "King Peter! King Peter!"

It was one of Edmund's Wolves. Peter groaned as he set Thalia down, although he was somewhat grateful that he hadn't actually unlaced her. "What is it, Romulus?"

The Wolf cocked his head to the right. "I'm Remus, King Peter. Where's your fur?" Yellow eyes widened slightly as he looked from Peter to Thalia. "Are you mating?"

Peter choked, a flush rising in his face that was mirrored by Thalia's blush. Bast growled and Babur pounced, catching the Wolf pup by surprise. Remus yelped then went limp as the huge Tiger lifted him by the neck and carried him out of the room. Peter cast Thalia an apologetic look as he snatched a tunic, pulling it over his head as he strode into the sitting room. Bast's eyes were fixed on the cowering Wolf pup as her fur bristled with outrage. "You should know better!"

Remus ducked his head. "I forgot." Then he caught sight of Peter standing there and bounded over. "King Peter! Alpha-" His eyes widened again. "King Edmund said to get you. The Princess Royal killed a Lone Islander!"

"What?" At first, he thought he heard wrong, but then Thalia gasped and he glanced over his shoulder to meet her stricken gaze. Peter clenched his jaw then snapped, "Take me to them. Thalia, I need you to find Susan, tell her what you heard and then meet us in the west council room with the rest of the council. Bast, stay with her."

Running through the halls with Remus leading the way and Babur fast on his heels, Peter could only hope that Kat hadn't become lost to the battle shock. It happened sometimes. Soldiers suffering battle shock would simply snap and attack those they could no longer discern as friends, seeing only foes. And for a warrior as skilled as Kat to be lost to the battle shock…

There was a crowd gathered by the time Peter and the two Beasts reached one of the lower gardens. Fortunately, it was only soldiers and several of Lucy's ladies. His gaze automatically searched for Lucy among the crowd and found her standing next to a very solemn-looking Captain Cletus. The Wolverine, Babet, was bristling from where she stood on Lucy's other side. The three seemed fixated by something, not the soldiers combing the slight hill and flowerbed but on the one who had caused this potential disaster.

Kat was standing, but she looked…lost as she hugged herself. Even from where he stood, Peter could see how her eyes were focused solely on the limp body lying just before her. Edmund was standing just to her right, one hand on the hilt of his sword and a wary eye on his companion. Even Romulus Greyback was watching her with an intensity usually aimed at strangers. Peter looked again at the still form of Count Achan. Broken neck. He schooled his features not to give any hint of his concern and horror at what Kat had done.

One of the Great Cats broke off from the search and approached Edmund. They kept their voices down but Peter could still see the grimness in his brother's expression as he glanced at Kat. Something else was wrong… He strode over to them and caught the last bit of the conversation. "…no sign of any weapon."

Kat tensed. Romulus was wise enough not to growl but now Remus was prowling around on Kat's other side. Peter stepped up, hoping to diffuse the situation before another attack was triggered. "We need to see that Count Achan's body is returned to his companions. Reassure them that we are giving this matter our full attention and shall inform them of the results of our inquiry when we are able."

Captain Cletus offered a short bow then waved several soldiers bearing a litter forward. As the body was removed, Peter caught Oreius' gaze as the Centaur approached and then tilted his head slightly at Kat who had gone pale. She didn't seem to notice as the General took up a position just behind her. Her eyes looked hollow and just a touch too bright as though with fever, but there was an emptiness in them where once there had been confidence and a knowing humor. "There was a knife. He had a knife. I saw it."

"I know you think you saw a knife, Kat, but-"

Peter cut himself off as Kat abruptly stepped closer. "No. There was a knife. I saw a knife and it was poisoned. He was going to kill your sisters with it. It is what he was sent here to do."

"Who?" Edmund shifted next to him, no doubt vying for an opportunity to watch her eyes. "Who sent him?"

Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth but no words came out. A wild fear entered her eyes instead. Battle shock…there was no other explanation for it. Peter glanced at Oreius again. The Centaur dipped his head then carefully wrapped his hands around Kat's upper arms. "You have made your defense, my Lady. Caia."

The Centauress, one of Susan and Lucy's senior guards, quickly took charge of Kat. It was distressing to see how meekly she went even with the occasional backward glance. That wasn't Kat. Peter forced his attention back to Edmund. "Have you gathered all the information you need?"

"Yes."

"Then, we need to meet with the others about what has happened. The Lone Islands will not want to wait long to hear our ruling on this matter." As his brother nodded grimly, Peter could only pray that this would not end with Kat appearing before the formal court on a charge of willful murder. Aslan, help her, but what had happened to make her attack and kill an unarmed man?

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! **


	12. Chapter Twelve: Judgment

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Twelve: Judgment

Lucy's lips trembled and a faint sheen of tears was obvious in her blue eyes, but she still held her head high and spoke with confidence. "Kat's been in service as our protector for nearly as long as she has lived in the Cair. Her instincts about people and their intent have always been right in the past. And, I believe her testament that she sincerely believed I was in immediate danger from Count Achan."

Peter watched the faces of those gathered here. Oreius, though he was General, had not spoken up yet. Most likely because he knew his words would have to be viewed as biased due to his past relationship with Kat. Mr. Tumnus spoke up then. "Forgive me for bringing this up, but can we trust anything the Princess Royal says at the moment? She has lost her memory and in the absence of proper context…she is most dangerous, your majesties. She might have lied about the appearance of a knife in order to make herself feel justified about losing control and attacking an unarmed man." The Faun shifted, fiddling with the fringe of his red scarf, before he added, "It is not a pleasant subject, but I fear it must be raised."

"You raise a valid point, Master Tumnus." Peter raised his hand slightly to keep Lucy from leaping to Kat's defense then continued seriously, "However, I was watching her eyes when she spoke of a poisoned dagger. She did not tell an untruth…from her perspective."

Edmund nodded. "She believed what she was saying. Until she was pressed for an answer that her battle shock couldn't comprehend anymore."

"That is something we should be thankful for," Stonebrook stated solemnly. "If the Princess Royal had been able to answer the question in her current state, it would be impossible to determine whether it happened or if it is due to the battle shock. And if due to the battle shock, she would have to be confined to the healers' ward until she showed signs of improvement. Something that I do not believe would be beneficial to her hoped-for recovery."

"But why did she have such a terrible episode?" Susan looked around the room. "Is not battle shock usually preceded by another episode? A warning sign? Other than the nightmares, she was doing as well as could be expected considering she has lost her memory. We removed her knives…there was no reason to assume she would do something like this."

Oreius shifted, his tail lashing his flanks. "She had a severe panic attack yesterday afternoon. One of the worst I've witnessed." His jaw tightened as he ground out, "The ones who tortured her had her hand crushed with a war hammer. She remembered that detail yesterday."

_Oh, Kat. What did they do to you?_ His sisters had turned pale and Thalia's light grip on his shoulder (she preferred to stand behind his chair at these meetings, though sometimes he was able to persuade her to take a chair) tightened. Peter looked down, praying for wisdom. "Then it would have been very easy for someone to trigger her battle shock into taking over."

Edmund sighed. "There was no knife. The guards scoured the entire area." When Lucy opened her mouth, no doubt to protest, Edmund spread his hands. "Kat believed she saw a knife. She imagined it was poisoned and part of a plot to attack you and Susan, Lu. There is no evidence to support her assumption that Count Achan was some sort of assassin. Did you see a blade? Even once, Lu?"

Lucy couldn't even form the words to reply, simply shaking her head and finally digging out a rumpled handkerchief to pat at the tears spilling over. Peter had the fervent wish that they could ignore this, that they could simply go about their day then come back to find this was all a misunderstanding and the count was not dead. But, that was a passing fancy and justice was the same whether for the humblest farmer or the Princess Royal. "Then we must decide if this tragedy was committed willfully or in the midst of a battle shock-influenced attempt to protect the Valiant."

The deafening silence was most telling as to the difficulty of this task.

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"Alambiel, you should sit now, child."

She kept pacing, rubbing her hands against her arms. She was so cold. The image of the man's dead, staring eyes flashed before her and she half-stumbled as she choked back a sob. _Murderer. You are nothing more than a murderer._

"Alambiel."

"I can't." She couldn't bring herself to look at Tuulea or Leeta or even the Centauress…she scrounged through her thoughts for a name, feeling the sharp bite of panic rising until she hit upon the name…Caia. Alambiel flinched when Caia shifted.

"You were trying to protect the Queen Lucy as you were trained to do. Their majesties know this." The Centauress kept her voice gentle and calm as she spoke the words Alambiel wished she could believe.

Turning to pace the length of the room once more, Tuulea beckoned her to join her on the settee. This time Alambiel did not resist. She was too desperate for comfort even if she did not deserve it. _Monster…murderer. _She swallowed hard to keep from dissolving into tears or screaming her denial at her own accusing thoughts…maybe she really was crazy.

Tuulea's kind gaze and the gentle touch to her hand was nearly too much to bear. "You must trust in Aslan, child. He will carry you through this trial as He has in your past."

A past she could not remember. A name the Narnians all counted as very important but it meant nothing to her. How could something that meant nothing comfort her? But she held her tongue and did not ask the question that would no doubt turn even Tuulea against her. _Murderer._

She jumped to her feet and whirled to face the door when the knock sounded. Her breathing was too fast. She needed to calm down. She needed to breathe. Leeta gave her a wide berth as she went to open the door and both Caia and Tuulea were watching her warily. Alambiel took a deep breath and another and another until she could take a steady step forward. Leeta glanced over her shoulder. "The council is ready to see you now, my Lady."

This was it. Alambiel had a sudden vision of a small dark cell and nearly stumbled again but this time she righted herself before it was too noticeable. _Show no weakness. Don't let them see how afraid you are, don't let them see that you just might be as crazy as they fear. _She shivered as a high-pitched, mocking laugh echoed through her thoughts. _Murderer._

Time seemed to stand still until she found herself standing in the middle of a room, eyes watching her. Some looked at her with pity, others with suspicion and a touch of fear, and one looked at her with a gaze so impassive she might as well have been non-existent. The General looked away, focusing on the Four and Alambiel forced herself to do the same. She shouldn't wonder why he despised her enough to not even show emotion, she knew…she was a murderer.

The High King cleared his throat, drawing Alambiel's attention. "It is with regret that this council assembled to determine whether a dear friend has committed willful murder."

The younger, darker king focused on her. Something his gaze sparked a sense of kinship. _Once a traitor, now a judge._ The thought fled before she could find the memory it should have accompanied. "Count Achan was unarmed when you attacked him. There was no sign of any weapon, not even a boot knife, on his body. However, We have decided that you saw a knife and believed Our Sister, the Queen Lucy, was in danger when you attacked Count Achan. Narnia's laws make provisions for soldiers who commit acts of violence while under the influence of battle shock. Furthermore, it is clear to Us that you, Alambiel, Lew's Daughter, were particularly susceptible to a severe occurrence of battle shock due to a particularly traumatizing memory you recovered yesterday."

Her eyes flickered to the General. He had told them how weak she was… _Murderer._ She stamped down on the urge to flinch as King Edmund continued, "It is, therefore, the finding of this council that you did not commit willful murder and you shall not stand trial for this tragic accident. However, additional precautions shall be put in place so that you and those around you may remain safe."

_Murderer. Prisoner. Untrustworthy._ Alambiel bowed her head in silent acquiescence. She did not want to be placed in a cell again. She could not stand to be trapped in a cell again.

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Peter sighed as he crossed his arms behind his head. "I don't want you to be alone with Kat." As soon as the hairbrush stilled in her nut-brown locks, he knew he needed to explain further. Thalia didn't turn around as he broke the heavy silence. "I ordered Lucy and Susan not to be alone with Kat. I am asking you, Flower. Please, don't be alone with her. It's too dangerous right now. If Kat becomes lost to the battle shock again and attacks someone…it would break my heart for it to be you or the girls. I'm sure it would break Kat's heart too once…if she recovered her sensibilities. But, I would not be able to forgive her for it."

His bride turned slightly to look at him as she lay the brush down on her dressing table then rose and approached the bed. "If that is what will soothe your heart and mind, I will do as you request." He lowered an arm and lifted the light sheet, allowing Thalia to slide in next to him. She pressed against his side as she rested her head on his shoulder. "I worry that we are isolating the Princess Royal too much. The General removed all hints of their courtship and now…I fear she feels very isolated."

He brought his arm up to hug her closer. "I know. I'm worried about it too, but I can't risk you and my sisters. We'll figure something out, something where we can help her while keeping you three safe." He rubbed his thumb against the smooth skin of Thalia's upper arm then turned his head to press a kiss against her forehead.

She surprised a chuckle out of him when her hand slid across his abdomen to lightly brush over his bruise. Her light green eyes were filled with a mix of mischief and something far more passionate. "Is your bruise terribly debilitating, my dear Peter?"

"Well, perhaps a kiss or two will aid in my recovery, lady." He grinned as Thalia giggled then he silenced her with a kiss. One arm looped around his neck while her other hand grasped at his hair as their kiss gained fervency. Wrapping his arms more tightly around her, Peter silently thanked Aslan that with his bride he could cease to be the High King, for a night at least.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! I'm not sure if I'll be posting tomorrow or this weekend, so if not, I wish all my readers celebrating Independence Day tomorrow a safe and wonderful holiday weekend. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one. And have a happy Independence Day!**


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Duplicity

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Thirteen: Duplicity

"Your man is dead."

Mordad jerked around, scanning the shadows that danced along the cavern walls almost as much as the flickering flames in the brazier. He could feel that demon of a sorcerer's gaze on him. His fingers itched to stab him with one of his poisoned blades but the sorcerer held too much of the power…for now. "How do you know?"

"I watched as Lew's Daughter broke his neck before he could poison the younger queen." A shadow detached itself from amidst its fellows and the sorcerer's raspy chuckle grated on Mordad's ears. "Perhaps this will teach you to discuss assassination plans in front of someone who would interfere if able."

"The blade-"

There was a red flash within the hood and then the sorcerer raised his hands. They glowed red, tendrils creeping up his pale skin and then blossoming into a globe with tiny flames racing along its smooth curves. In the center floated a blade. Mordad recognized the serpent head hilt. It was the blade he had given Achan along with the falsified documents proclaiming him a count of the Lone Islands (an expensive trick to keep the documents flawless enough to pass even the most thorough of inspections).

"I have often wondered why the Great Cat shows such mercy as to keep extending opportunities to those who fail Him, who constantly err and falter at the tasks He sets them to," there was an edge to the sorcerer's voice as he spoke. "But, fortunately for you, Mordad, I have decided to experiment and see if a failure can truly, what is that word the Great Cat's followers are so fond of, ah yes, redeem. Redeem yourself, Mordad, by not failing me again. And consider yourself the most fortunate of men that I chose to step in and summon your pretty little dagger before the Narnians could find it. The ones she yet attempts to protect in her own pathetic little way no longer trust Lew's Daughter." Mordad threw himself flat on the cave floor as the dagger came hurtling toward him. There was a thread of mocking amusement in the sorcerer's voice as Mordad lay prostrate before him. "Surely even you can take advantage of the situation and fulfill your bargain."

Anger burned in Mordad's heart as the sorcerer vanished. He gripped the hilt of his dagger, rising to his feet. He would find a way to kill that demon. But first, he would ensure that his men knew what to do for the next phase.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! Yes, I know this one's short, but longer chapters are coming your way. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one.**

**A/N2: MissMelanieWilkes was kind enough to create another lovely banner for my story ALitD: Shadowed. The link is in my profile, do check it out and let me know what y'all think. :D**


	14. Chapter Fourteen: Dissent

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Fourteen: Dissent

_The man with the squeaky voice watched her with beady eyes. "So you are saying that my client, John Doe, is the one who tortured, raped, and murdered all those runaways-"_

_Another man jumped to his feet, his thick grey mustache bristling, and shouted, "Objection! The counsel is characterizing the victims."_

_"__I'll rephrase." The man fixed his eyes on her again, seeming fixated on the way she swallowed and didn't look around him at the one who did all of this. "Are you claiming that my client, John Doe, is this 'Monster' you attested to in the report taken by police?"_

_She nodded. "Yes."_

_The prosecutor interrupted again. "Your Honor, what is the point of this line of questioning? It seems the defendant's counsel only wants to prolong Miss Alambiel's forced contact with the defendant, ignoring the fact that she is a minor."_

_She ducked her head, trying not frown as she stared at her wrapped hands. Alambiel was not her last name, but the prosecutor said they would address her that way in order to make the jurors feel more sympathetic than if they knew her name was Alambiel Doe, or sometimes Katerina Alambiel Doe, according to the state of Colorado. An orphan or abandoned child. No one knew save for the fact that she was one of the unwanted. She looked back up as the judge finally questioned, "What is your client's name?"_

_The Monster leaned forward, leering at them all. "I am the Monster. I am the Taker of Life. I am the Hangman's Axe. And I will kill you, Princess! I will! I will!"_

_He lunged, struggling against the grip of the bailiffs, as he screamed more threats and obscenities. Then everything shifted and tilted. _

_She was painting… It was a little silly to run off and finish the mural before she even finished the letter, but she wanted to and he would be happy when she told him. Besides, it didn't take long for her to apply the final touches (even if she had barely waited long enough for it to dry properly to keep the paints from being muddy). She might even have time to slip into the nursery for a bit. Her hand was steady as she added a little more detail to the Centauress. She stepped back, admiring the work. Ah, there was one more spot that could use a bit more definition. She cleaned off the brush then chose a different brush, this one with a narrow fan. Dipping it in a creamy white, she added a stronger line between the Centauress' stocking and the rest of her leg. There was a faint scuff of a boot against marble. She turned her head…_

_Dead, unseeing eyes stared at her. The count's unnaturally still form had one arm flung out, his hand pointing at a word scrawled in the dirt – Murderer! She clapped her hands over her ears, but it didn't help. Murderer! Murderer! Murderer!_

Alambiel jerked upright, gasping. She was half-sitting, half-lying on the settee. The tray of food for the noon meal lay cold and untouched on the low table. The Leopard…no, _Ptah_ was watching her with concern but he wisely said nothing when she stumbled to the bathroom and retched into the basin. She had to talk to…to someone. Someone who would understand that she hadn't meant to… Alambiel retched again, unable to even complete the thought.

Once her stomach finally settled, she cleaned herself up. Smoothing her hair, she tried to at least look a little less insane than everyone no doubt believed. "Ptah?"

"My Lady?" Ochre eyes stared up at her as the Leopard joined her. There was an earnest desire to serve, to help in their depths.

"I need to speak to the General. Where might I find him?"

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Alambiel kept her head high as she traversed the long distance between her quarters and the floors reserved for military use. The whispers grew as she passed more and more soldiers, but she pretended she could not hear them. Just as she pretended that two Tigers had not fallen in behind her when Ptah first led her out of her chambers. The niggling voice that claimed she would be safer hiding inside her chambers was steadfastly and ruthlessly crushed. She could not afford to show more weakness, more insanity. She had to be strong even though she want to hide from the staring eyes and whispering voices.

The soldiers grew thinner in number as they crossed the length of a long hall decorated with various weapons, armor, and banners. There was a sense of history here and she wished she had time to linger, to try to chase down the pieces of memory flitting about always just out of reach. But, she couldn't. Ptah had moved ahead, speaking to a Faun.

Raised voices caught her attention. Alambiel hesitated then she heard the General's rumble. She glanced at Ptah but he was still immersed in conversation. Taking action before her doubts could force her into timidity, Alambiel quietly moved down the side hall. There weren't as many weapons here. Instead, the marble walls were decorated with several large tapestries depicting various creatures and events that made no sense to her. There were three doors, one on either side of the hall and then one at the end. She approached the door at the end of the hall, being careful not to make too much noise.

The General had stopped speaking by the time she reached the door. Alambiel raised her hand to knock but froze just before her knuckles brushed the solid oak. Another voice was speaking, his fervency, his concern etched into every word. "Are we certain these measures are enough? Dame Sepphora is lost to the battle shock and she has already killed once. Will these measures prevent her from doing so again or are they only going to be able to curtail the damage?"

Another voice, this one a tenor, interjected into the tenseness roiling out from behind the closed door. "Peridan, we cannot treat her as a prisoner. She may not be- That is to say, she is not herself; however, she is still the Princess Royal and the Four have already spoken on the matter. Guarded, not imprisoned."

"Not herself? Did you see what she did to an unarmed stranger, Cletus? Who's to say she will not do the same to a fellow Narnian? She is still a murderer. What makes the situation worse is how many innocents may run up to her, unaware that someone who had been a protector or even friend to them once might now kill them in the midst of a battle shock delusion. I have young children who might encounter that very scenario should they approach her."

Alambiel clapped her hand over her mouth and backed away from the door. Tears threatened, but she couldn't allow them to escape. Spinning around, she charged back up the hall. Ignoring Ptah's call, she fled the justifiable accusation. But, it still haunted her. Murderer…the charge would never cease, be it in the waking world or that formed of dreams. Her dreams were wrong about one thing – the madman was not the real monster…she was. And she would never cease to be a monster.

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Oreius clenched his jaw. His head told him that Peridan was reacting as a sire seeking to protect his foals from a new threat, but his heart… His heart yet rebelled at how Alambiel was being painted as a threat. The words disparaged her and everything she had given so much to attain. It was as if her sacrifices were being discounted and all for one incident. "Alambiel acted in defense of Queen Lucy; battle shock or not, she was responding to her training."

"Training?" Peridan stepped forward then swept his arm to the side, jabbing one finger at the window. "Look out there, Oreius, look out there at the children who are currently playing in the gardens not far from where the Queens are with their ladies. What if one of them ran up to the Queens? Can you say how Dame Sepphora will react?"

Oreius frowned. "You truly believe that the same mare who has spent so much time looking after foals and ensuring their protection would attack them even in the midst of battle shock?" If Alambiel ever learned Peridan suspected her capable of inflicting such harm to foals, innocent foals… It would break her heart.

"She doesn't remember any of that, Oreius!" Peridan ran his hand through his hair. "I have to consider the possibility that… Cletus! Would you permit your son near Dame Sepphora at this juncture, after witnessing how precarious her grip on reality is?"

The Faun glanced at Oreius then looked away. "No. I won't risk my family either."

Clenching his fists, Oreius slammed his hoof against the floor. He ignored the cautioning glance from Ardon. He had had enough of standing by and allowing Alambiel to be disparaged. He was still her shield. "I am not telling you to risk your families. If you wish to keep your wives and little ones out of Alambiel's path until she remembers and has sufficiently recovered from the battle shock, then that is your decision. However, I will not stand by and allow anyone in this army to ridicule, undermine, and slander everything Alambiel has done for Narnia and for many of us who are her friends. The Four ruled that she is not to be treated as a prisoner. These extra measures, the guards both on foot and on wing, the limitations on where she will be allowed to venture without being guided somewhere else, and the further restrictions on what we are allowed to tell her will be pushing her perilously close to her breaking point as it is."

He scanned the room, making sure to hold Peridan's gaze as he continued, "Any one of us as the swordmasters of Cair Paravel would present as great a potential danger were our places exchanged with hers. I still do not believe Alambiel will harm the foals she encounters, it is too deeply ingrained in her to protect them and you know as well as I that it would take a very severe episode of battle shock to pull a soldier into attacking anyone and everyone, but there are safeguards in place. Until such time as it is proven otherwise, those safeguards will neither increase nor decrease." Much as he despised having to place her under such a heavy guard, Oreius could not change the High King's orders. "The guards are well-aware that they are tasked with a dual duty of protecting others from an outburst and protecting the Princess Royal from any misguided and overzealous attempts to incapacitate her."

Peridan shook his head. "I fear this is folly and you have allowed the fact that you were courting her to influence you to leniency, Oreius. But, I also pray that I am wrong this time."

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! So, who will be right? Peridan? Oreius? Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one!**


	15. Chapter Fifteen: Safeguard

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Fifteen: Safeguard

"Are you all right, my Lady?"

Alambiel raised her head from her knees and blinked at Ptah. The Leopard's golden gaze was fixed on her, but he seemed concerned. The bitter thought edged in that perhaps he was only worried about her going on another murderous rampage. The thought hurt almost as much as the accusing cries of murderer and she shoved it back down.

The sense of being watched filled her and she ducked her head slightly, scanning the area from beneath her lashes. But, no one was in view save for Ptah. Maybe she really was crazy. Rubbing her temples, Alambiel sighed. "No."

Ptah came closer, his warm bulk pressing against her. It should have felt too hot given the way the summer heat lingered into autumn, but she felt inexplicably cold. "You were very upset when you ran out here."

She raised her hand and scratched behind his ear. "I needed space." She heard squeals of laughter nearby and the low hum of cheerful chatter. Maybe she should have moved deeper into the gardens, but…she was afraid to venture too near the walls. A dread sensation that something was waiting for her to leave filled her each time she contemplated venturing beyond the walls. It frightened her and the memory of what she had done the last time fear controlled her…murdering an unarmed man was more than enough to deter her from putting herself in a truly frightening situation again. _Murderer._

A child's squeal of delight pierced the air. Alambiel leapt to her feet just as a small child darted toward her, babbling. "La! La! Up! Up! Up!" Alambiel's heart was pounding to the point she thought it might burst from her chest but then she allowed herself to study the child clinging to her skirts.

Long brown curls with just the hint of reddish highlights held back by a pink ribbon that matched her slightly rumpled pink gown. The girl smiled, she had two missing teeth. Her big brown eyes shone with…trust as she tugged on her skirts. "La! Mazy up! Up!"

The little toddler trusted her. Alambiel picked her up, allowing herself a small smile as the child wrapped her pudgy arms around her neck and started babbling all about flowers and puppies and "flutterbys." She glanced at Ptah but he seemed preoccupied with vigorously cleaning his paw. It was an act. She didn't know how she knew that, but she was certain he was only acting uninterested to make her feel calm.

_"__I have young children…"_ It was as though someone had poured ice water over the little flame of warmth the toddler "Mazy" had brought with her. Alambiel swallowed hard as she realized no parent in his or her right mind would be happy to see a vulnerable little child in her arms. She carefully set the girl down, trying to ignore the bewildered expression in those brown eyes. She made herself smile. "Thank you for visiting me, but why don't you go see your Mama now?"

Ptah was giving her an unreadable expression and she remembered he didn't know that parents were afraid of her. Of what she would do. _Murderer._ The toddler looked around then her face split into an excited grin as she clapped her hands then waved. "Daddy! Daddy!"

Alambiel looked up as the toddler pelted toward the path and the man striding toward them. Even from where she stood in the shade of the large oak, she could see his stance was that of an angry protectiveness. His brown hair was lightened by the sun and almost had a reddish tint to it, especially combined with the wine red of his tunic. He caught the girl up and whispered to her then sent her on down the path. As he drew nearer, Alambiel realized he wasn't much taller than she was, perhaps an inch or two taller than her own six feet. He moved like a man accustomed to fighting and his left hand rested on the pommel of his sword. She forced herself not to act or look guilty as she raised her chin to meet his hard gaze. "Why did you approach my child?"

Her heartbeat increased and her palms grew sweaty as she recognized the voice of the one they had called Peridan. "Forgive me, my lord, but I didn't approach her. She approached me. I meant no harm-"

He stepped closer and Ptah tensed until Alambiel raised her hand slightly. This man was a father attempting to safeguard his children from a very real danger. She was dangerous and she could not blame him for acting as a father should. Peridan hissed, "Do not approach my children. Do not interact with them. Stay away from my family. I cannot trust their safety into your hands; therefore, you will not interact with them and they will not interact with you."

"I understand. You have my word that I will not approach your family and I will find a way to avoid the little ones' attention from now on." She hoped it would appease him and the fear in his father's heart.

Peridan stepped back. His eyes were still hard but his voice softened to a more polite tone. "I will accept your word. But, I warn you now that it would be best for you to keep to yourself should you be present at a place where the children of the Cair are about…parents must protect their children from all threats."

She nodded meekly, hoping to appease him so he would leave. Peridan didn't leave and she wondered if he felt another warning was in order. A deep voice called out, "Peridan!"

The man turned to face the Centaur who now approached them. He was not the General, though. This Centaur was even bigger than the General and was bronze from his hair to his tail. The bronze giant stopped next to Peridan and spoke softly, "You have done your duty as a father. Leave before the General learns of this."

Why would the General care what Peridan said? He was right, after all. She was too dangerous for parents to feel easy about their children being around her. Alambiel tucked the questions down as Peridan strode toward the laughter emanating from nearby. Studying the bronze Centaur, she noted there was a sorrowful kindness in his eyes when he looked at her. She scrambled to match his face to a name and failed. Before she could admit the humiliating truth, however, the Centaur bowed. "I am Ardon, Captain of the Royal Guard."

She dipped her head in response and then the name fell into place. "Oh, you're Alithia's husband! She mentioned your name a few days ago." She pretended not to notice the slight disappointment in his gaze when he realized she had no real memories of him. She needed to distract him from asking any questions she couldn't answer. "You have a foal coming this Snowbrice."

A grin of fatherly pride spread across his bronze face. "Yes, I do." A jewel-toned flash blinked into view and hovered by the Centaur's ear then zipped away. He bowed once more. "Forgive me, Your Highness, but I must return to my duties."

She managed a smile. "I understand. Thank you for intervening, by the way." Barely waiting for his polite response, Alambiel hurried back toward the Cair with Ptah guiding her whenever she turned the wrong way. She hoped she could avoid running into anyone else for the rest of the day.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! **


	16. Chapter Sixteen: Assignment

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Sixteen: Assignment

Oreius studied the map, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand and not on Alambiel. One of the guards had mentioned she had been in the army's Hall of Remembrance looking for him but she had fled before anyone could inform her that he had been meeting with the other swordmasters. If not for this meeting with the Kings, he would have sought her out himself. Instead, he had requested Ardon keep an eye out for her.

"I still think poking around where Kat was found might provide us with some clues." His dark colt glanced at him then addressed his brother. "Peter, you and I can scout this area to the south of the border and then we'll meet up with the patrol to search the other side of the river. If Kat was being chased, her captors might have come back in the interim to try to find her trail."

The High King studied the map then ran his hand through his hair. "This might not be a good time for us to be gone, Ed." Oreius took care not to show any emotion when his golden colt glanced at him. "I mean what about when Count Achan's body is returned to the Lone Islands? His family will contact us."

"It won't take us that long to do some scouting. Oreius?"

Folding his arms over his chest, Oreius gave a curt nod. "You make a strong case, my King. It is possible someone else has hunted for Alambiel in recent weeks. And I am certain, their majesties, the Queens, will be able to handle any diplomatic difficulties with the Lone Islands should the queries reach Cair Paravel before you return."

King Peter still looked reluctant before he slowly nodded. "All right. We'll need to make some arrangements, but we'll leave tomorrow early."

As the High King left, already preoccupied, King Edmund stopped in the door and looked over his shoulder. "He didn't mean anything by it, Oreius."

Oreius bowed slightly. He knew, he knew that his colts were reacting to the events as they must and not because they meant to slight Alambiel. But, still it was difficult to witness these events and their consequences. Once King Edmund hurried after his brother, Oreius sent a Hummingbird to find Ardon and then retreated to his study. He purposefully covered the yet-unrepaired dent in his desk with some papers.

Still, he could not focus on his work. He wanted nothing more than to find Alambiel, to comfort her and reassure her that she was loved even in this most difficult time. He turned away from his desk and all the paperwork awaiting his attention to look out the window. Not as vibrant as usual after over three months without rain, the trees' leaves were changing colors in spite of the lingering summer heat. He wished he could spot Alambiel from the window, just to reassure himself that she was, indeed, well.

"Peridan confronted her."

Oreius stiffened then schooled his features to be impassive as he turned to face Ardon. "Why?" As leery as Peridan was of Alambiel at the moment, he knew the man would not confront the Princess Royal without reason.

"Maisee approached Alambiel."

"And?"

"Nothing happened save garnering Peridan's attention. Alambiel was as gentle with the filly as always."

Ardon's expression shifted to sympathy and Oreius realized he was clenching his fists. Forcing himself to relax his hands, he nodded. "I did not think she would change that much. Ptah, Kumbali, and Sarti were watching her as well, yes?"

"Yes, though she only seemed aware of Ptah. The Tigers were hidden."

"Good." It was better if she didn't realize how close a watch the Tiger cousins were keeping on her or that several Birds now watched her as well. He didn't want her to feel like a prisoner. Oreius returned to his paperwork. But, still he couldn't resist asking one unprofessional question. "How did she seem?"

"She seemed wearied and haunted. Much like she did the night she told us of her Monster who gave her those scars." Ardon shook his head. "Alithia and I are going to have her join us for a meal tomorrow in the hopes it will help her realize she does have friends. Will you join us?"

He wanted to say yes, but he knew what he had to say. "No. My presence agitates her and summons the worst of her memories. It will be better if I keep my distance for now."

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"Your Highness, a moment, please."

Alambiel stopped still. She shouldn't have gotten so turned around the last time she didn't wait for Ptah. She would have been able to bar all the unknown faces and questions out by now if she had already reached her quarters. Taking a steadying breath, she turned to see Peridan. Where before the man had been a fierce and protective father, he was now a polite lord. He bowed slightly and gestured to a small library. "May we speak in private for a moment?"

She nodded. Ptah was watching Peridan through narrowed eyes but he stayed in the doorway at her silent signal. Alambiel was glad she managed to keep any emotion from her voice as she asked, "Why do you wish to speak to me?"

"I wish to apologize for my behavior in the gardens," Peridan stated gravely. There was a sincerity in his eyes and in his tone that bade her to believe him. "My children…" He cleared his throat, trying to hide the emotion she glimpsed beneath his solemn bearing. He loved his children very much…that much was obvious. "I must protect my children, especially my youngest. I will fail at times, but I do not wish to fail them…or you. We have not always gotten on well, you and I, but I do pray that you will recover from the affliction of battle shock. And your memories…if you do not recover them, I hope the new ones you form will give you some measure of peace."

Alambiel was unsure of the correct response. Hoping she would not cause offense, she gave him a tentative smile. "Thank you for your words. And I do understand. I understood in the gardens. You are a father. It is your task to be protective, even overly so at times."

Peridan bowed again then strode from the room. Alambiel peeked out after him. "Ptah, let's not take any more visitors today, all right?"

The Leopard chuckled. She hadn't actually meant it as a joke but still she smiled. Returning to her quarters, she pulled out the blank drawing pad and the drawing implements. After staring at them for an hour, she slid them back into the drawer with a sigh of defeat. The single drawing she had sketched the first day she found the drawing supplies had been terrifying to the point she had torn it to pieces and cast the tiny remnants off the balcony to be swept away by the wind. Something dreadful prowled behind the door blocking her memories and she was afraid of opening it. Opening the door would unleash the monster… And how many innocents would she kill if she did that? She didn't want to find out.

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Lengthening his stride, Edmund hurried to catch up to his brother. "Peter, wait." His Wolves yipped in excitement as they happily followed alongside at a pace above the sedate walk everyone had been trying to get them to adhere to when not on urgent business. Edmund waved his hand, hoping to silence them. Grabbing Peter's shoulder, he pulled him to a stop. "You need to calm down."

"I am calm." Peter scanned the hall then lowered his voice slightly. "I just don't know about leaving the girls and Thalia. Especially now."

"Susan and Lucy have their own guard. The most competent soldiers comprise the Queens' guard, you know that. And Thalia-"

"Doesn't have her own guard yet. Kat was supposed to assign the guard and she can't now, can she?"

Edmund sighed. He wished he could say something to ease his brother's burden, but he had the same concerns. As far as he knew, only he, Peter, and Oreius knew that Kat played a very large role in vetting the guards for their sisters. And she was supposed to go over the list of candidates for the Princess Consort's personal guard… "We can't wait for you to do the vetting yourself. It's been nearly too long as it is and you did say we're leaving tomorrow. Early."

His brother shook his head slowly. "I just don't feel right leaving Thalia without her own guard."

Remus suddenly shouldered his way between them, yellow gaze fixed on Peter. "Why? Is your Thalia having puppies?"

Edmund tried to stifle his snicker as Peter turned bright red and sputtered. Then a delighted squawk filled the air. They spun to see a Peahen fluttering her wings as she hurried up the hall, calling for…Susan. Peter groaned and Edmund chortled, rubbing his hands in glee. _Dinner is going to be so entertaining tonight. _Remus, though, was still gazing up at Peter. "Is she?"

"Is who what?" Peter muttered as he grabbed Edmund by the arm and forced him to duck inside an empty solarium.

"Is your Thalia having puppies?"

Peter tripped over his own big feet, blushing even redder than before, and Edmund cackled. His Wolf simply looked confused. Remus turned to his brother. "Can't Humans smell when puppies are coming?"

Romulus considered. "I don't know. Maybe when King Edmund stops barking, he'll tell us."

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! **


	17. Chapter Seventeen: Conflicted

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Seventeen: Conflicted

4 Frostmoon 1008

Alambiel closed her book with a snap. It was another of the books on Narnian history she had been scouring, hoping to remember something safe that would not set off any more nightmares but so far the nightmares came every night, though she did not always remember anything save fear and a remembered pain. Maybe she should search the pack now. Captain Ardon had delivered it yesterday saying only that it had been left in the Seven Isles.

Rummaging through the pockets, she couldn't find any that seemed the least bit helpful. Turning the pack inside out, she spied a shadowed area where her mind insisted there shouldn't be. Finding laces hidden beneath the seamed border, her interest was piqued. The laces sealed a hidden pocket, which contained only one item – a tooled leather wristlet. Pulling it out, Alambiel traced the pattern of a star set within a forget-me-not set within a stylized sunburst.

_His word choice alerted her. It was not what he would have said had he purchased the wristlet. She couldn't believe he had made this, had taken the time to craft something for her. But, still she had to ask him. She looked up. "You made this?" _

_Her heart swelled with joy and love, but his face remained hidden in the shadows. She stepped closer, wanting a better look at his face. "Who are you?"_

_Hands wrapped around her neck, choking and bruising, as he laughed, soft and mocking. She clawed at his hands. Digging in with her nails. The hands only tightened their hold. Black spots were forming before her eyes. Her dagger! She reached for it and-_

Alambiel blinked. She was flat on her back with the pack lying a few inches away from her. The back of her head throbbed from the impact with the floor. But, she wasn't crying and there weren't any witnesses this time. She supposed that was a minute improvement to the other times something like this had happened. Rolling over carefully, she noticed the wristlet lying nearby. She picked it up but no memories rose up to greet her this time. Looking around the bedchamber, she had the sudden urge to get out of the palace.

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_Oreius,_

_We survived the trip (so far) and Lucy is now locked away with boring negotiations. Ptah and I are availing ourselves of the company of Hadassah House. You cannot tell him I said this, but he really is adorable when the girls (with Crina in the lead) drape their very best ribbons all over him. I am almost done with the Spring room. I just need to add a few more details to Selene and then it will be finished. I'm thinking I'll be boring and work on a design for the Summer room next. Actually I shall go finish those last details and then I'll bore you with gossip and ask impertinent questions about how Susan is taking her time off now that the wedding is over (She's plotting for nephews and nieces, already, isn't she?). _

_Oh and I was wondering_

There was no more. Oreius suspected that Alambiel had gone to finish the mural and the wretches took her then. He returned the unfinished letter, the last time his Alambiel had attempted to reach out to him, to the drawer and locked it away with the rest. He needed to take firmer control of his emotions. There were no more clues to be found in her letter.

King Edmund's summons was a welcome distraction. Oreius could hear him grumbling at the Greyback twins even before he reached the Just's study. "Remus, what have I told you about bothering Sophocles?"

"But, he's a spy!"

Oreius shook his head. For some reason, the Greyback twins had decided Sophocles, a very cantankerous and less than sociable Badger who lived in the eastern gardens, was not to be trusted. King Edmund's exasperation was clear in his voice and the dark look currently fixed on the two grey Wolves. "Sophocles is not a spy. He's Lucy's friend and you know very well that you are not supposed to go around calling creatures who don't smell familiar Fell."

"But-"

King Edmund raised his hand and both Wolf pups crouched low. "Not another word. Go inspect the training yard and leave Sophocles alone." The Wolves whined and slunk out of the room, not even daring to look up at Oreius when they passed him. His dark colt fell back into his chair. "One well-deserved scratched nose and they think it's attempted murder. Blast Peter."

Oreius bowed his head but did not offer to replace the Wolves. He knew his dark colt had grown very fond of them even though they were still very green…and occasionally misplaced their zealous efforts to guard their charge. "You wished to speak with me, My King?"

"Yes," his dark colt tapped a letter lying open on top of various other papers, "Count Achan's family has contacted us. They think we're just trying to protect Kat because she is a royal, so they are coming to Cair Paravel to present their complaint at a formal hearing."

"Has the Princess Royal been informed?"

King Edmund shook his head. "No. I think it might be best to wait to inform her until it's closer to the time for the arrival of the late count's relatives. His mother and four cousins are coming."

Though he was uncertain of how well that would go over (especially with Alambiel's history of stumbling across the things they delayed telling her well before they had planned), Oreius had no real reason to object. "The High King should be here to speak with them."

"Yes, and Peter sent word with one of the Falcons that he'll return tomorrow night. Count Achan's family is expected to be here in a week as they still need to finish the mourning rites."

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Crossing the main courtyard, Oreius' steps slowed when he caught sight of Ptah conversing with Kumbali and Sarti just in front of the entrance to one of the smaller training yards. The Big Cats ceased their conversation at his approach but he could see the apprehension in the Tigers was not share by Ptah. Instead, the Leopard looked…excited. "She's in the training yard. Examining the weapons rack."

A faint tendril of hope bloomed, growing stronger as he considered what it might mean. Still, he took care not to allow any hint of emotion in his voice as he briskly order her guard to take their leave. As the Big Cats and Birds slipped away, Oreius entered the training yard. Alambiel was standing in the middle of the yard.

She hadn't noticed his presence yet, all her focus on the blade she held in front of her. Her left hand was against the flat of the blade then she closed her eyes. She stepped forward, dipping the sword to her right. A block. She leaned to her left, sword slashing through an unseen opponent. Her arms raised into a high block.

Unsheathing a sword, Oreius approached her from behind. Alambiel continued to move through the basic exercise. Would this be the key to unlocking her memories? He did not know, but the hope persisted. Alambiel whirled, eyes still closed, and slashed down from a high block. Oreius raised his own blade and stopped the blow. Alambiel's eyes flew open and she stared up at him with a wild surprise. She was panting slightly and her lips parted before she disengaged her blade.

Oreius spread his hands wide then sheathed his sword. Alambiel licked her lips nervously as she lowered the sword. "I didn't mean to trespass."

He was tempted to touch her. He forced his hands to wrap around the hilts of his twin swords. He didn't want to frighten her, after all. "You did not. How did it feel?"

At first, he wondered if she would answer but then Alambiel whispered, "Familiar." She turned away running a hand over her hair, fingers fiddling with one of the hair ornaments tucked into her twisted chignon. "I can feel that it is familiar. My hands, my entire body moves into this dance of death and I don't even know _why_ or how it is I know these things." She set the sword back into its appropriate slot on the weapons rack and then stepped back, nervously smoothing her hands over the back of her dress.

He pondered if she realized her habit of checking for her twin knives was showing itself. Most likely not. But, it gave him hope that his Alambiel was still there, fighting to come out from where she had been forced into hiding. "Would you like to talk about it?"

She stilled. "Do you believe me? About what happened, I mean."

"I believe you were sincere." Oreius hesitated, weighing his words. "Something about Count Achan must have felt wrong to you, but as you could not remember protocol, you reacted in accordance with your training."

The laugh that escaped her was wrong, it was a bitter scoff so misplaced coming from Alambiel's lips. "Oh, how wonderful. I am a trained monster."

"That is a lie." Taking the risk, he placed his hand on her shoulder. "You are not a monster. You are a trained protector. You are a protector, Alambiel." He stopped himself before he captured her chin and tilted her face up so he might see if she believed him and not the lies haunting her, but he did not remove his hand. "You should not believe yourself anything less."

Alambiel didn't look at him, but she didn't pull away from his touch either. "I am afraid of what I have done, what I can do, and what I will do. I don't have good control. What happens if I murder again?"

"Training will help with your control. Perhaps the familiarity of the routine will also prove further beneficial."

She pulled away, already shaking her head. "No. I can't."

"Walk with me." When she looked at him, he softened his tone further. "Come for a walk with me and then I should like it very much if you would explain why you do not wish to train."

Alambiel brushed back some loose strands of hair and Oreius' breath caught in his chest when he saw she wore the wristlet. Did she remember who gave it to her? Could that be why she was acting nervously around him and not because his presence was forcing difficult memories to the surface? Hope grew stronger when she nodded. They walked in silence from the training yard to the southern gardens. The maze was unoccupied for the moment as the Queens and Just King held court (the Greyback brothers were still running around and digging holes in the largest training yard…he would have to send Badgers and Dwarfs to repair the holes before holding drills) and Oreius purposely led her there.

Alambiel was quiet until they were well within the maze. "I don't think anyone would be happy to see me training and I don't know if I can train while being watched."

"Would you agree to private training then? We can use the smaller training yard at around ninth hour in the evenings. You can train with Ardon, myself, and Caia. Alithia will most likely surpervise-"

"Not Alithia." Alambiel's tone brooked no argument as she looked up at him. "I won't touch any weapon if someone vulnerable is present. I won't risk losing control again around someone who has an unborn foal to protect."

Oreius bowed his head. "Very well. Alithia will not be allowed within the training yard."

Alambiel abruptly turned away from him, walking down a seeming dead end, but she went straight to the hidden door. She remembered. Oreius followed, hoping that she recalled why the hidden garden within the maze was special to her…and to him. He shut the door then turned to see her looking at him. She was fiddling with the wristlet, rubbing her thumb over the pattern. "I agree. I'll train with you. And with Ardon and Caia as well."

"Where did you find the wristlet?" It wasn't what he had intended to say and he feared for a moment that she would close herself off again.

She dropped her gaze. "In a secret pocket in my pack."

The silence that fell afterwards was uncomfortable. Oreius cleared his throat. "Perhaps we might train on the beach as well."

She shook her head. "I can't." Oreius raised an eyebrow but she did not notice. Perhaps there was a reason Ptah reported she had only been down to the beach once (the sole time he had watched her from afar). He considered pressing for the reason. Alambiel looked up at him then and there was a touch of shyness in her eyes. "We are friends, yes?"

He nodded, hope rising that she would ask how close they were. This time he would answer truthfully that they were closer than friends. _Aslan, please._ Alambiel looked down, a faint smile suddenly playing across her lips. "Your letters aren't very friendly. It's always 'you've missed training' and 'don't break my armory' and 'stop playing pranks.'"

Oreius chuckled. "I had your letters returned so you may read them as well and they should more than prove you were intentionally attempting to provoke me."

Alambiel's soft laugh was a welcome sound. "Yes, I was a crazy pest with an apparent death wish. I have read the books, General. I know Centaurs are unaccustomed to such flippancy as appeared in my letters."

_General. Not Oreius, not Kentauri, and certainly not a chara. _Oreius froze as the hope that had bloomed was viciously ripped apart. Alambiel was studying him. "Did I say something wrong? General Oreius?" Her brow crinkled and the strain that had momentarily been absent from her features was back as she put more space between them. "I'm sorry."

He raised his hand and took care not to let any of his own turmoil to enter his voice. "No, it is not your fault. You are currently at a disadvantage and it is unfair for anyone to expect you to immediately know the background that others remember." The distress in her eyes was too much to bear. He nearly stepped toward her, wanting to comfort her, to take her by the hand and show her the memorabilia that remained from her protection of the High King (aside from the white streaks in her hair), show her the tangible proof that she was a protector and not the monster she feared. But, he was certain now that would be too much for her, especially if he were the one to do it. He would seek Tuulea and Alithia's counsel on the matter. Until then… Oreius bowed slightly. "I fear there are other duties I must attend to now. May I escort you to the library perhaps?"

Alambiel shook her head. "I'm to join Alithia in the healers' wing."

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It was late when Oreius returned from the bluff, searching the stars for some sign of hope. The stars gave none. Instead, they spoke of perseverance and waiting on Aslan. He had hoped, wanted, and needed something more concrete. Something that bespoke of their love enduring as more than a memory, his memory alone.

There had to be something of his Alambiel left, some little piece of her yet remained in her instincts and habits breaking through but it wasn't enough. She did not recall the most important pieces. He had once thought nothing could be more difficult than waiting for the right time to tell Alambiel how his feelings for her had changed. This was more difficult by far.

Oreius finally took refuge on one of the smaller balconies overlooking the Eastern Sea. Leaning his forearms against the smooth marble railing, he bowed his head with a sigh. It wasn't working…none of it was working. It was almost physical, the ache in his heart. It haunted him like a wound left untended. But, there was naught he could do to soothe it. The lack of recognition in her eyes was a blow that would ache for the rest of his life. How could this be Aslan's will? He didn't know…

A hoof scuffed against the marble floor and he looked over his shoulder to meet Stonebrook's empathetic gaze. He did not want empathy. Alithia and Ardon and Tuulea all presented more than enough every time he asked after Alambiel's well-being. He turned back to look out over the dark sea as the Centaur elder joined him, also leaning his forearms against the railing. "Tuulea has informed me that Alambiel continues to remain adrift from her memories…and that she was seen coming from the gardens in your company."

Oreius did not answer as he clasped his hands together. Stonebrook shifted his hooves. "How are you, Oreius?"

"I do not know." Oreius shook his head, suddenly feeling as though he were centuries old. "I do not know how I am. I still hope that she will remember everything, including what we have…had together. But, it is difficult. When I look into her eyes, I do not see my Alambiel looking back." He looked down at the dark waves crashing against the shore far below and a bitter laugh finally escaped. "I planned to propose to her when she returned from the Seven Isles. I had intended to do so today…we have or had been courting for a year. It- It seemed like our moment, our time for an engagement and then marriage was now. That we could finally have our moment to taste a fuller joy and happiness, something neither of us ever expected for ourselves was suddenly before us and all we needed to do was reach out and it would be ours as soon as we chose to do so." He shook his head again. "When we spoke earlier today I thought that she, that my Alambiel might have returned, but she did not. And it is-" He cut himself off. He could not yet bring himself to speak aloud the fear that he had lost his beloved forever.

Stonebrook set a hand on his shoulder. "Have you told her that-"

"No!" Oreius pushed off the railing. He ran his hand over his face then sighed. "I cannot tell her. She is wary and easily hurt. Her vulnerabilities are laid bare and without the defenses she has long used to shield them. Alambiel must already attempt to find her balance between being the Princess Royal and learning that she is also a soldier, a knight of Narnia…telling her that we were courting would only add to the burden. And you did not hear her pleading with Tuulea…her fear of walking by a husband. I cannot put her through any more pain and confusion that can be avoided. I cannot confuse her further, not when she does not even remember that she has never called me 'General' without either being very angry or forced to do so."

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_She sat in a wheeled chair, watching the children who played or sat with their parents and even siblings on the lawn. The Professor was chewing on the stem of his pipe again. "Patience is a virtue, my dear."_

_She cast him a skeptical look. "Patience doesn't bring you a family, especially if you're one of the unwanted."_

_"__There is One who will always want you, my dear Katerina Alambiel. He is the Father to the fatherless. He knows who named you 'Alambiel' and why you were in the forest that day. He led good men to find you and He led you to the orphanage."_

_"__And He let the Monster hurt me and kill Nekane and Maddie. Why would He do that?"_

_"__Because free will means that He will not always force evil to stop. Because somehow what that man meant for evil, He will turn it to good. It may take a very long time for us to see how your experience can be turned to good but one day you will see it." The Professor tapped the lion and cross pendants dangling from her necklace. "Remember that, lass. Moreover, remember that your experience helped to capture that man before he could harm other girls. That was the first good thing to come of it all."_

_She sighed. It wasn't what she wanted to hear exactly. She glanced again at the Professor and smiled slightly. "You just wanted to come out here so you could smoke your pipe without Nurse Hyde fussing at you again."_

_He laughed. Then his laughter blurred into her own. A moment later__, she closed her eyes as calloused fingers lightly skimmed her jaw and chin. Then warm breath not her own tickled her lips. "You are my heart, do not forget." _

_Her own voice echoed in her ears, a contented whisper. "Never, I promise." She opened her eyes, wanting, no, needing to see him. The one who laid claim to her heart._

_She was lying on her side. A spot on her neck just below her jaw throbbed, probably from that dart. Her head was pounding where the man had slammed her head against the floor and splintered wood was digging into her skin. She tried to push herself up but was brought up short with the clink of metal chains. No. The floor rocked and she realized she was on a ship. Wonderful. With her track record with Murphy and his blasted Law, she was probably on her way to the slave market in Tashbaan. She hoped not…she had too much of a reputation among the Calormene diplomats and traders for that to be a good thing. _

_The door opened and the man from before stomped in. She smirked when she realized he was still limping slightly. "Demon witch!"_

_"__Insults from an unknown man mean little to me."_

_He swore most colorfully then kicked her in the head…_

_A low laugh filled the cave, coming out of the darkness. "Ah, Ishara Reborn. I have waited for this moment." _

_She gasped, trying to breathe past the pain of her definitely cracked rib. How long had he stood there watching as his men beat her? She didn't know and she didn't care. "Why are you doing this?"_

_"__Because I can." He stepped into the ring of torchlight and circled her then stopped behind her and grabbed her throat, squeezing. "Because I want to savor every scream that comes from your pretty mouth before I kill you and leave your dead body for your lover to find."_

_The pain was agonizing. She tried not to scream, to focus on their faces, especially on his face as the man cut into her back, laughing cruelly at every whimper and muffled cry that escaped as he opened her old scars. She had not thought anything could be worse than how the Monster had done it, but he did them one by one. The agony was unceasing…_

_Everything hurt. She couldn't even lift her head as he crouched in front of her chair. He forced her chin up, digging into her skin with bruising force. "Tell me where the tunnel is."_

_She used what little moisture was left in her mouth and spat in his face. Her ears rang as he backhanded her and she dimly felt fresh blood drip from her split lip and already broken nose. Then he barked an order. "Bring the stone."_

_She couldn't breathe. She gasped as the stone slab weighed down on her. Her ribs were protesting, cracking and threatening to puncture her lungs. She choked on a plea not to him, never to him, but to Him. Another face swam before her eyes as another rock was added to the slab. He would try to find her, she knew he would, but he wouldn't even have a trail to follow this time. She would go to him, instead._

_He loomed over her again, his loathsome gaze made her feel more unclean than when he had stripped her down before his men in order to open her scars. He had done it on purpose, kept the additional threat of giving her to his men as a toy to be used then discarded alive, but he never allowed them to touch her. Even he hadn't touched her that way. A small mercy. "Tell me the protocols for getting close to the Four."_

_She still hadn't recovered from the slab and even summoning enough breath for a single word was a challenge. "No."_

_He swore and then slammed something heavy against her leg. She screamed as it broke... He nodded to his man and her other hand was tied to the table. He had already broken each finger during the last interrogation. He nodded to his goon and the war hammer was raised high. She screamed as her hand was crushed. She screamed over and over again. _

"Alambiel! Alambiel! Wake! You are safe!" A shape loomed over her. She screamed louder and scrambled backwards, barely noticing when she fell off the bed. She raised one arm in front of her as she scrambled back at his approach until she hit the wall and could retreat no further.

She couldn't breathe normally. All that escaped from her was either a whimper or a scream. He tried to come toward her again, but she could only recoil as his shape shifted into something far more terrifying, faces she couldn't even put names to but that did naught to lessen the terror as the images of her dream pressed in on her. She heard the rumbling voice, but terror ripped away the meaning and transformed the words into nonsense. "No! No, go away! I don't know you! Get away from me! Get away!"

The voice answered and some small part of her that wasn't completely buried by the pain and the terror recognized the heartbroken whisper. "Oh, Alambiel." But the pain in her head flared when she tried to chase down the part of her that knew something and she could only shake her head as she raised her arms to shield her face and pressed back against the wall. A strange, desperate tone entered the rumbling voice. "Help her, please."

Then a Voice, golden, rich, and almost painfully pure, purred, "Peace."

A shuddering sob broke free as she lowered her arms and held them out pleadingly. "Please." She wasn't sure she even knew what peace was, but every fiber of her being cried out for that tantalizing promise. She met golden eyes and whispered a name. The thought came to her that it was the wrong name. No, not the wrong Name. It was the right Name, but this was the wrong world for that Name. The pain and the terror were nearly overwhelming, threatening to pull her down so deep that she would never be found again. Peace came the command once more. Golden eyes met hers, providing an anchor and she grasped at it. Her fingers curled in the soft golden mane and she held on as a whisper slipped free, "Aslan." The right Name for this world.

The golden Voice washed over her again. "Peace." She did not have the strength to meet His eyes again. All she could do was cling to His mane and bury her face in its softness as she trembled. Terror and pain receded, leaving her feeling only the comforting weight of His presence. She may not remember who she was or why she was there, but she knew that He would not forsake her in this darkness. She clung to Him until peace joined with exhaustion to send her deep into the most restful slumber she'd experienced since waking to a disorienting place full of unknowns and unanswered questions.

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Oreius watched as Alambiel finally slept. Her tearstained face was still mostly turned into Aslan's mane as she lay between His paws. Raising his gaze, he met the Great Lion's golden eyes for a moment then bowed his head. "Thank you."

"Come and move Alambiel to the bed, Oreius. She will not venture into the nightmares and memories that plague her dreams again tonight."

Obeying his Lord, Oreius carefully lifted Alambiel's limp form into his arms. Laying her in the bed, he pulled the bedcovers back over her. "Will You heal her?"

"I will stay with her through the night."

Oreius did not press Him for a firmer answer. Perhaps tomorrow, he would learn more. He wanted to press a kiss to Alambiel's brow but he resisted. It would only make it that much more difficult should she not remember him still. Instead, he bowed to Aslan and left his heart in the Great Lion's unwavering care.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review!**


	18. Chapter Eighteen: Lull

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Eighteen: Lull

5 Frostmoon 1008

He hadn't found anything useful. Peter glared at his horse's mane, trying to think of some way he could have done more. They had waited too long to look and combined with his insisting on bringing Edmund back to Cair Paravel after being injured by that Harpy… He shook his head then straightened as he rode through the Cair's main gates.

It was a bit of a surprise when neither his siblings nor his wife appeared to greet him. He had been hoping to at least see Thalia first. He cheered himself up with the thought of surprising his beloved Flower. Swinging down from the saddle, he allowed one of the Fauns to lead his horse away then, with light, quick steps, he strode toward the palace.

"Peter!"

Peter smiled as Thalia came running down the path. Her delighted laugh was a sweet comfort to the burden of his failed quest. She threw her arms around his neck and he clasped her close, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Finally, he set her down on her feet. "Thalia." He traced the curve of her cheek with his thumb then gently captured her lips.

She pulled back and rested both hands against his chest. Her eyes were shining with more than love for him. "Aslan is here."

Relief coursed through him, simply knowing that the Great Lion had come already eased the burden on his mind. Peter grinned. "Show me."

Taking him by the hand, Thalia led him into the gardens. The sound of children's laughter reached him first. Then, they turned the corner and there amid the reds, yellows, oranges, and browns of the autumn lay the Great Lion. Lucy sat before His paws, giggling, as the children of Cair Paravel cavorted around Aslan. Little Maisee was toddling about helping some of her friends (Nymphs, Centaurs, and two Fauns) place leaves in His mane. Smaller Animals, especially the Cats, big and small, were climbing all over Him. One bold little Tiger was trying to catch Aslan's tail. Susan was sitting on the nearest marble bench, smiling in contentment.

As golden eyes turned to observe their approach, Peter bowed deeply and Thalia curtsied. His smile was clear as He turned His head to look at the little ones gathered around and then Peter saw Him hold His tail still so the Tiger cub might leap upon it. Then Aslan spoke, "Now, children, it is time for you to return to your parents." He blessed each child from the Centaurs down to the Squirrels and Mice with a Lion's kiss. His rumbling purr turned into a chuckle as the young Tiger cub proudly shouted to his mother about catching Aslan's tail. Aslan fixed His gaze upon Peter and nodded. "Peter, come and walk with Me."

Peter squeezed Thalia's hand then followed the Great Lion from the garden. As they walked through one of the orchards, he relished being once more in the company of the One who could calm the storms buffeting his spirit and Cair Paravel more fully than anyone else. "Will You stay long?"

"I shall be here for as long as I am needed." Aslan's golden eyes were filled with amusement when Peter sighed over the enigmatic answer. _Sometimes it would be far easier if Aslan spoke plainly._ "Would it?"

Clearing his throat, Peter shrugged only somewhat sheepishly. "Perhaps. But, then something else would likely occur to complicate the matter." He smiled as Aslan chuckled, then he grew serious. "Will You heal Kat? Or have You already done so?"

He hoped He had because then Kat would be able to explain everything and she would be herself…safe. The Lion at his side raised His head and looked out over the Eastern Sea. Peter followed His gaze and paused at the sight of a merlin resting at the base of a tree with its wing out at an odd angle. The bird, typically fierce and proud, now looked rather harassed as it attempted to avoid a Faun who had no doubt come to fetch it to the mews where its wing might be mended. Aslan's voice flowed over him, "The bird reminds you of Alambiel."

Peter nodded. "She's hurt and the efforts of those who wish to help her seem to only aggravate her. She needs healing." He looked again to the Great Lion. "Won't You heal her, Aslan?"

Aslan's gaze was solemn and a touch of sadness filled His rich voice. "I have not come to heal Alambiel. The physical hurts were healed by the cordial. The hurts to her spirit must heal in their own time. I have come to bring her the peace she needs in order for those hurts to be healed."

"When those hurts have healed, will she remember everyone properly again?"

"I tell no one any story save his or her own," Aslan said gravely. He nodded to where the merlin was now being carried off by the Faun. "Time is a gift and it brings its own healing. The form of the healing may not always take the shape you most desire or even want, but it is never left to chance. There is good in the healing. No matter what form or how long it must take."

Peter nodded. Aslan's words made sense, but still… It was hard to have to treat Kat with such wariness. And he knew it must be even harder for Oreius. "Does Oreius know?"

Aslan looked at him and he thought for a moment that He might remind that it really wasn't part of his story. But, then Aslan bowed His head. "Oreius is aware of why I have and have not come. But, we shall speak more later. You are needed elsewhere for now."

Before he could question His meaning, a Humming Bird darted close. His soft voice was barely audible as he whispered, "The Gentle sends word that Count Achan's family has arrived in port, High King. She wished to warn you so you might make yourself presentable before they arrive."

Peter barely kept his frustration at bay. He had hoped to have longer with Aslan and his family's company before dealing with such unpleasantness as would accompany a grieving and accusatory family. But, it was not to be. He nodded. "Thank you. Please inform my sister that I shall be ready." As the Humming Bird darted off, he bowed to Aslan. Perhaps Aslan would not provide an easy solution but surely things could not grow worse now that He was here.

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"The Great Cat has returned."

Mordad flinched. The demon who roamed Narnia in the shape of a lion. He had no desire to meet such a creature that even Tash could not find a use for… "Then it is over. I will recall-"

"No." The sorcerer's harsh laugh made him tighten his grip on his dagger. The demon red flash appeared within the shadowed depths of the sorcerer's hood once more. "No. You are redeeming yourself and you cannot do so if you retreat. And the Great Cat will not interfere."

"How do you know what that demon will do?"

A tone of satisfaction entered the sorcerer's voice as he hissed, "I have seen it." He raised one gloved hand and red flames engulfed it, circling and almost caressing the glove. Mordad's hate for this demon sorcerer only grew. The sorcerer pointed at him. "My spell will ensure your men's success as long as they do not err…as Achan did."

"I have warned them. They will not attack when Ishara Reborn is present. They will wait until she is nowhere to be found. And then your latest requirement will also be fulfilled."

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Thalia smiled as Peter offered his arm and escorted her from the solarium where they and his siblings had passed the hours after supper. Her thoughts were still filled with the wonder of seeing Aslan but now…now she focused on her husband. Peter paused just inside their quarters and turned back to face his Tigers. "Bast, Babur, thank you for keeping Thalia safe while I was away…and goodnight."

The Tiger twins bowed their heads and Thalia pretended not to notice their smirks as they slipped out. Peter shook his head, muttering about propriety and things not being jokes, as he closed the doors. Thalia slipped her arms around him and pressed her cheek against his broad back, enjoying the warmth emanating through the fabric. It felt similar to how the sun would warm the earth beneath her feet after a chilled night. "I missed you."

His calloused fingertips grazed the backs of her hands then skimmed her arm, pushing back her loose sleeves. "I missed you too, Flower." Twisting around, he stared down at her with such love and heat, she blushed even as he reached up to gently cradle her face. "I missed you every moment."

Their kiss stole her breath away. As they moved to sit on the settee, Thalia immediately insisted on removing Peter's boots. After tugging off the boots, she helped him out of his tunic, leaving him in his soft undertunic. Peter grinned then tugged her down to sit on his lap. Thalia smiled, her cheeks warming with another blush, and gently touched her lips to his forehead. "Bast and Babur were most worried about you, especially after you refused to allow them to accompany you after you brought your brother back injured."

"I needed them here to protect you." Peter murmured as his hand trailed up her arm to fiddle with the shoulder of her gown. "Oreius and I will create a short list tomorrow and then you will meet the guards and we'll see who is the best match for you."

Thalia laughed softly as she recalled the tales concerning both brothers' guards. "That is not what the General did for you and it is certainly not what you did for King Edmund."

Her husband had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed. "Well, Oreius has informed me that if I ever randomly promise an assignment as personal guard to green recruits that no one has vetted again, I will spend so much time visiting the points of the compass that I won't even notice the Elephants he's assigned as my new personal guard." The giggle bubbled out before she could stop it. Peter grinned then he dipped his head and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "Did I mention how much I missed your company, Flower?"

"You may have mentioned it in passing." Thalia reached up to touch his hair. "However, I thought you might be in need of a proper bath. It should be waiting for you." As soon as Peter gave her a contemplative look with a glint of no little mischief, she knew what he was planning. "Do not pull me in as you did at the lake."

Peter placed a hand over his heart and gave her his most innocent look, while still keeping his other arm firmly around her waist. "I did not pull you in, Flower. I merely slipped when attempting to climb out." Her playful retort was cut short before it could even leave her lips when he kissed her and she relaxed into his embrace. Whatever came on the morrow, it was enough to know that Peter had returned home safe and that now Aslan Himself was within the Cair. What evil would dare to act when the Great Lion was there?

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! Hmm, what are those villains planning now? Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one. **


	19. Chapter Nineteen: Audience

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Nineteen: Audience

7 Frostmoon 1008

Two days, that was all they had been able to delay before Count Achan's family insisted upon arranging a formal hearing. Susan folded her hands in her lap as she maintained a calm demeanor. The youngest of the cousins was speaking now, yet his dark eyes continued to flick to where Thalia once again stood behind Peter's throne. "Your Majesties, with respect we must protest your ruling in the matter of our cousin's death. You would have us attest to all the nations that the late Count Achan's demise was caused by some tragic accident. But, we know that you know this is untrue."

The rest of the petitioners whispered over the gall of the family to question the justness of a ruling, even if they were mourning a loss. Susan took care not to let her own expression slip as she exchanged a glance with Lucy. A quick peek to her right showed that Thalia had just barely tightened her grip on Peter's shoulder while both of Susan's brothers remained impassive. Edmund accepted the challenge with only the slightest hardening of his gaze. It was always a warning sign whether during family bickering or in the midst of a diplomatic difficulty.

"Are you displeased with a specific portion of the recorded session of the council, Lord Ammon? Or is there a more delicate matter you wish to address?"

Lord Ammon gave no indication that he heard the subtle warning in Edmund's voice. In fact, he sneered at them although he could not be more than five years older than Peter's one and twenty. Susan glanced at Edmund's Wolves but, for once, they were managing to behave themselves, no doubt helped in no small part by the presence of Bast and Babur as well as Vardan Windwolf. Lord Ammon's unctuous tone was at odds with his sneering face. "I would have spared the Queens and their ladies' delicate sensibilities, but since you insist, I will speak plainly. The Princess Royal's reputation as a liar and a woman who fears not to ply her…feminine wiles and charms in order to get what she wants is well-known. Considering she's taken a Centaur as a lover, the one who is conveniently the general, only makes it easier for her to escape true justice."

A low murmur of disapproval filled the hall as the gathered Narnians glared at this man who so freely disparaged Kat. Susan narrowed her eyes at the man. "Have you ever encountered the Princess Royal, by any chance?"

He had not been expecting her to speak, so focused had he been on Edmund. His start was only partially due to her question. His gaze when he looked at her was nearly as oily as his voice. "Once, Your Majesty. But, it was enough to know her character and how her eyes would tempt men near though it seemed only so she might delight in spurning them."

"She spurned your attempt to proposition her, didn't she?" Lucy's voice was steady as she too watched Lord Ammon through narrowed eyes.

Susan caught a glimpse of something in his dark eyes before it was shuttered away behind a false condescending smile. "Your majesties are yet girls, too sheltered to know how that one plays the harlot."

Susan frowned. "You seem to have no issue in 'disabusing' Us of such a naivety if We and Our Royal Sister in fact possessed it. Honeyed poison is all We hear falling from your lips. It seems to Us that you were, indeed, rejected by the Princess Royal."

"Recently," Lucy chimed.

"In fact, it seems to Us that your purpose in speaking such slander against one so dear to Us is nothing more than a petty attempt to repay her the humiliation you believed yourself to have suffered when she rejected you."

Lord Ammon's face turned red and his hands clenched into fists. "You know nothing! That w-"

"Ammon!" The only woman present among the Lone Islanders stepped forward. Her face bore faint lines about her mouth and the corners of her eyes and her black hair was shot through with threads of silver. Of them all, she alone wore all black while her nephews only opted to wear a black ribbon tied about their upper arms. Yet, she held her head high as she stepped up beside Lord Ammon, ignoring his scornful look. "Your Majesties, I humbly pray you ignore my nephew's foolish words. He is yet hotheaded and does not mind his tongue as well as he should." Her eyes glimmered with the sheen of unspent tears and the slightest crack entered her voice. "My son is dead. It is my right to ask for a formal trial for the one who murdered him."

Susan's heart went out to the woman. Even Edmund softened his stance ever so slightly. "I fear, my Lady-"

"Jezreel."

He nodded. "Lady Jezreel. Narnian laws also provide protection for those suffering from battle shock. We, and Our counselors, deliberated over the matter most strenuously. Our conclusion that this was a tragic accident directly linked to battle shock stands, as such We cannot and will not hold a formal trial."

Lady Jezreel trembled as though she might collapse as she finally lowered her head. Lord Ammon leapt at the opportunity to speak. "Then you are biased! No doubt that harlot has slept with most of this so-called council and-"

"Clearly you do not hold marriage vows nor personal honor in high regard, Lord Ammon." Susan pursed her lips as she briefly thought that it was well Oreius was preoccupied with a meeting with several of his captains and lieutenants to discuss the latest report on the northern Giants' activities. The General never would have permitted such talk without reacting…strongly. "However, as Our session record attests, We followed the laws and statutes set down by Aslan. Your continued and persistent attacks on the Princess Royal are both disgraceful and uncouth."

"If you truly cared about your cousin or your aunt, then you would not be trying so hard to make a boor of yourself," Lucy added.

Susan nodded. "Or We would at least expect you to attempt to better control your boorishness if it comes to you naturally. Instead, We find you are most aggravating, insulting, disgraceful, uncouth, and boorish with a nigh beleaguering purposefulness. Do you hope to provoke a reaction from Us? Or, mayhap, it is the Princess Royal whom you hope to antagonize and humiliate into reacting so We might have no choice but to deal harshly with her?"

Lord Ammon's left eyelid twitched. There was a barely detectable thread of amusement in Peter's voice as he spoke, "Our Sisters seem to have pierced the heart of this matter truly." He sobered as he turned to the late Count's mother. "We grieve with your family, Lady Jezreel, but justice has been served to both parties."

Edmund nodded. "Had there been a willful intent to harm or kill, even the Princess Royal would not be exempt from justice. She would have stood trial for murder. But, this is not a case of murder. It is tragic and no doubt your family will long feel the scar of Achan's absence, but it was not murder. It was an error wrought in the throes of battle shock. Many who see combat experience it to varying degrees and the laws protect them for those circumstances when they are not truly in control."

Lucy leaned forward slightly. "She must live with the memory of her realization that she was not on the battlefield as she believed. Some would say that in itself is punishment enough."

Lady Jezreel nodded. "It seems it must be so, Your Majesty."

"You and yours are welcome to stay for as long as you need before returning to the Lone Islands," Susan said with a gentle smile, knowing sailing was probably the last thing this grieving mother needed, especially if doing so trapped her with her boorish nephew.

With a flare of black velvet skirts, the lady swept a deep curtsey (forcing her nephews to all bow). "We accept your gracious offer, Queen Susan. We thank you for hearing us out…though it did not have the outcome I had hoped." Then with her head held high once again, she took the arm of her eldest nephew while Lord Ammon, along with his other two brothers, fell in just behind her as they followed Bernstein, one of the Bears, out of the audience chamber.

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The soft chatter of voices called to her. Alambiel padded down the hall past a rich tapestry depicting Nymphs dancing with Fauns and Satyrs in the fresh fallen snow while Dwarfs threw snowballs betwixt the dancers. The voices quieted now and a new voice filled the silence. There was a cadence that put her in mind of storytelling.

Slipping in the open doors, she paused at the sight of a number of the children living in Cair Paravel. But, there were a number of adults present as well. She stayed in the back of the room, close to the doors. Tall, pale, and clad in a leafy, green sleeveless dress, the Willow Dryad, Titania (Lucy had re-introduced them a few weeks ago), stood in the front of the room. Her focus was on the little ones as she spoke, "Our Lord Aslan is not bound by the same limitations as we are. How many of you know the story of the Stag's Fawn?"

The little ones shook their heads, small cries of denial coming from their mouths before they all leaned forward, practically humming in their eagerness for a new story. Titania brushed a lock of curly brown hair out of her eyes then smiled. "Then it seems I must share this story with you. Now, in the days of King Frank the Fourth, there was a proud and magnificent Stag by the name of Epher. He was the leader of his herd and blessed with a comely Doe as his mate and a young Fawn. They roamed the Lantern Waste with nary a care. There came a time when Epher's Fawn wandered away from her parents' watchful eyes as she played with some of her friends. A dumb wolf saw the Fawns and attacked them. Nevertheless, only Epher's Fawn was caught as she had valiantly lured the beast away from her dearest friend. Epher heard the Fawns' cries and, together with his fellow Stags, he sought the young ones out. Epher struck down the wolf before it could kill his little Fawn; however, she was sorely wounded. The best healers came and helped to bind her wounds, yet they all warned Epher and his Doe that their little Fawn was not going to linger long before she went to Aslan's Country. The thought of losing his Fawn was nigh unbearable and Epher set out to find the One who could yet heal her. For five days and nights, the Stag journeyed from the Lantern Waste all the way to Cair Paravel for he heard that Aslan was there.

"When Epher reached Cair Paravel, he begged for an audience with Aslan. And when he saw him, he said, 'My Lord Aslan, I know You are able to do all things. You need only will it and it shall be done. Please, Lord Aslan, You have surely heard the prayers of my mate, my herd, and myself on my little Fawn's behalf. Will You not heal her?'

"Aslan knew what was in Epher's heart and He watched him closely. 'Do you believe I can speak and your little Fawn will be healed?'

"Epher bowed his antlered head. 'You are Aslan. If You speak it, it shall be so. This I believe with all my heart.'

"Aslan was pleased with his answer and He gave Epher a Lion's kiss. 'Go then and when you return to your herd, you shall find your little Fawn has been healed as of the moment of this conversation. For your faith is great, My son.'

"And Epher trusted Aslan so he went away from Cair Paravel. When he returned to his herd, it was his little Fawn who gamboled out to meet her father first. With great rejoicing, the herd celebrated the healing of the Stag's Fawn."

Titania scanned her audience then she shifted into another story. "This was neither the first nor the last time Aslan healed one of His children. Two hundred years after the time of Epher and his Fawn, a great crowd gathered at the Stone Table for one of the Centaur prophets sent word throughout the land that Aslan was coming to Narnia again. Among the crowd waiting to hear and see Aslan, was a Daughter of Eve. She came from Archenland and was very ill with a wasting sickness. Indeed, the healers had cautioned her against traveling but she knew she had to see Aslan. When she reached the Stone Table, though, she was overcome with a sense of unworthiness.

"The Daughter of Eve said to herself, 'Who am I to approach One so great as Aslan? I have not always lived as I should but I am so weary of this deep pain. I know if I but touch His mane just in passing, He shall heal me of this wasting sickness.'

"And so she waited all through the day, listening as Aslan spoke to the crowd. Until at last He went down from the Stone Table and the crowd parted for Him. Many clamored to speak to the Great Lion before He left Narnia once more, but the Daughter of Eve merely ducked her head. And, as Aslan passed where she sat midway down the hill, she reached out her hand and her fingers brushed against His mane.

"Aslan stopped and turned to her. 'Daughter, your faith has healed you. Rise up and go home.' The Daughter of Eve was indeed healed of the wasting sickness from that moment. She returned to her small town in Archenland and told her family, her friends, and all her neighbors of what Aslan had done for her and what He spoke of at the Stone Table that day."

Something about the stories struck a familiar cord. Alambiel closed her eyes for a moment, trying to chase down the familiarity…the echo. No, not quite an echo, similar but different to what she had just listened to and- Opening her eyes, Alambiel shook her head slightly. The tendrils still slipped away with a frustrating ease.

She left the story weaver to her task and wandered down the hall until she came to an abrupt stop. She turned back to Ptah. "Where is Aslan?"

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_Aslan was on the beach. All you have to do is go out the gates and down the path to see Him. So why don't you?_ Alambiel chewed on her bottom lip as she sat on the low stone bench nearest to the gates. People, human and Narnian, passed through the gates with ease. Families, traders, merchants, and diplomats all went about their business without hesitating before leaving the walls of Cair Paravel. Why could she not bring herself to do so?

_Cruel hands dragged her back into the cave. They tossed her in front of a pair of dirty and bloodstained boots. It was her blood staining them. One man knelt on her back, his knee digging in between her shoulder blades and straining her bruised and cracked ribs. Cold and mocking the voice echoed slightly. "Did you think you could escape, Ishara Reborn? Did you think you could simply run away? I had thought you more intelligent than that. It appears I was wrong. How disappointing."_

_He dropped the tail end of the whip before her face for a moment before barking a command. His men strung her up by her wrists and then the sharp kiss of the whip wrapped around her legs, slicing through her leggings. "You cannot run away. The moment you step outside the walls of whatever fortress you manage to find, my men will take you and bring you back here. You will beg for death when they do so for he will no longer be able to hold us to the requirement that you remain untouched."_

Alambiel shuddered as the memory shattered into pieces. Someone was waiting for her to leave the safety of the walls. But, she sensed there was Someone else watching and waiting for her to choose. Could she make herself vulnerable? Knowing that both danger and just a hint of the truth she so desperately needed was lying beyond the walls? _"…pledge to be your shield…"_

That voice. Alambiel knew she knew the voice, but still her mind refused to divulge who it was. She looked at the pristine white walls again. They were nothing more than a temporary shield. Those who waited on the outside would come within soon enough and there would be no escape then. Nor would she know who was foe and who was not if she never took the first step.

Gathering her courage, she slowly rose from the bench. Ptah followed but it was of little comfort in that moment. She didn't pause as she approached the open gates, if she did, she would never set foot outside her self-imposed prison. She was vaguely aware of how several of the soldiers turned to watch her with no small interest, but they did not attempt to stop her.

The back of her neck prickled with sense of being watched, but she forced herself to keep going. The journey down to the beach was an agony that seemed to take hours. Until she met golden eyes… Dropping to her knees before Him, Alambiel bowed her head. She could not even find the words to explain the urge she had felt to find Him, to seek His presence. But, it did not matter as the sweet perfume of His mane surrounded her and the feeling of peace filled her once more.

Reaching out, she touched the wave-dampened, dark golden paws before her. "Why?"

"Because you are Mine."

Alambiel gasped as the statement's truth struck her. She was His, against all odds, she was His. Evil pursued her and tormented her because she was His. And, He brought peace to her wounded spirit because she was His.

His rumbling purr filled her with so many emotions she could not begin to name them all. "Rise, My daughter. Walk with Me, dear one."

Rising, she buried her hand in His mane. They walked down the beach and she felt a sense of rightness assert itself. There was no place better than walking beside the Great Lion. "Why will you not restore my memory, Aslan? You are capable of healing the mortally wounded and raising the dead, You needn't even speak a word and You could restore my memories to their proper places."

"Things never happen the same way twice, dear one."

Alambiel chewed on her bottom lip again. She had slept peacefully, dreamlessly since Aslan had arrived. "The dreams are going to come back."

"Yes," Aslan said gently, "your dreams and the memories they contain shall return. But, you shall find they hold less terror for you now." She hesitated, unsure of whether she wanted to ask the question that had sprung to mind. Aslan stopped and raised His golden head, testing the breeze. "Look out to the sea, Alambiel."

The sea nearest to the shore was yet silver. However, to the east was a long dark bank of clouds and already the sea was changing from silver to white-capped slate grey. There were flashes of light illuminating the clouds from within, giving them a slight greenish hue. A storm was coming. Alambiel turned to Aslan. "Will it reach Narnia this time?"

"No. But, when it is the proper time, it shall rain over Narnia again."

Alambiel frowned. "Is that some sort of metaphor for me and my memories?"

Aslan chuckled. "In time you will learn that answer, dear one."

"That wasn't nearly as helpful as I had hoped." Alambiel sighed. Then, as she looked out over the sea and the distant storm, she couldn't help humming then singing softly. "Haul away, haul away. Quick now, quick now. Chase the storm and you shall see. Chase the storm and yours 'twill be. All the treasures veiled from sight, yours 'twill be…"

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! Okay, so more of the pieces are falling into place. The tales of Aslan's miracles are based on miracles from the Bible, a nice virtual brownie and a oneshot of your choice to anyone who correctly guesses them. :) The song lyrics at the end...I made them up. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one. **


	20. Chapter Twenty: Arrangement

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Twenty: Arrangement

24 Frostmoon 1008

Aslan walked down the beach, on one side of Him was Lucy and on the other…on the other was Kat. Peter ran his hand through his hair, wondering if he should send a page to remind Lucy of his orders concerning Kat. Shame lanced through him as soon as the thought emerged. He knew better, he knew that Lucy could be no safer than walking with Aslan and that he had only required her and Susan (and Thalia) to not be alone with Kat.

Shaking his head at his own paranoia, Peter made himself leave his study. He didn't pay much mind to where he was going until Edmund's muttering caught his attention. For some reason, his brother currently had a number of items ranging from knives to an odd box spread out over his desk. "What are you doing?"

Edmund glanced at him. "Just trying to find something."

Peter picked up the odd box. Its smooth wooden surface gleamed slightly in the afternoon sunlight. "Did you ever figure out what this is?"

"No. And Kat never told me either. Don't touch that one!"

"Ow!" Peter glared at the innocuous-looking carved fox, its jaws currently clamped on his fingers. His brother reached over and hit the small latch just behind the fox's left foreleg, not quite hiding his smirk. Peter shook his hand. "I never understood why Kat thought a biting fox was an appropriate birthday present."

"She thought it was funny."

Peter just shook his head. The next item that caught his attention was much safer. A large coffee mug formed of clear glass and with silver paint spelling out the three levels of 'coffee coherency' as Kat called it. A finger's breadth from the lip of the mug was the first line with its warning: "Unable to communicate in full sentences." In the middle was the second line with its caution: "Slightly more coherent but still unable to hold a conversation." And a finger's breadth from the bottom was the last line with its pronouncement: "You may speak now…unless you see me refill this mug. Then you must wait through another cycle." He chuckled, remembering how many times Edmund had escaped early morning conversations by using the mug Kat gave him last year. Then he sobered. "Why do you have all these presents out, Ed?"

His brother didn't quite meet his gaze. "Because… I ran into Kat this morn and she didn't even realize that yesterday was my birthday. And I thought maybe I could find something that might help her remember her past habits for gifts…" He shook his head and carefully returned the gifts to their appropriate places until only the mug remained on his desk. "I think we should be grateful that we managed to keep Lord Ammon away from Kat without any further incidents."

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It had been difficult to get away from all the prying eyes, but now they were focused on that Lion. Their own devotion made the Narnians foolish. Yet, the target never presented herself in such a way that it would be easy to take her. The figure opened the wardrobe and placed the key items in the hollow beneath the false bottom of the drawer. Those would keep nicely until they were needed.

Pulling open another drawer, gloved fingers dug through until they touched the cloak. This one would do nicely. Returning everything to its proper place, the figure slipped back out of the room. Now they need only wait for the opportune moment.

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26 Frostmoon 1008

Lucy fidgeted. She wanted more than anything to cast Lord Ammon into his ship and bid him never return. Of course, that was a very undiplomatic response. Susan touched her arm and she stilled. Her thoughts wandered, though, as the family bid their guests farewell. Susan had insisted they do so for Lady Jezreel's sake. A slow smile stole over Lucy's lips as she remembered what Aslan had said about joining her picnic to celebrate the coolness of the day (the first truly cool day they had had since late Mayblossom).

She had invited Kat but Kat had once again declined. Perhaps it was still too crowded for her… Lucy had almost distracted herself with plotting how to help Kat feel more comfortable around crowds again when Lord Ammon's snide words assaulted her ears. "And the Princess Royal still will not appear before the family of her victim? I should have thought that she would at least show her face at our departure. If only to gloat over her triumph."

Lucy narrowed her eyes at him. She wondered what his reaction would be if she drew her dagger. He certainly wouldn't laugh long. "The Princess Royal respects the grief experienced by Lady Jezreel. 'Tis a sign of that respect that she will not force her presence upon the bereaved family. Perhaps you might learn from her example."

He turned a delightful shade of purple and his nostrils flared. But, his eldest brother caught him by the arm before he could say anything and hissed in a low tone that she no doubt was not supposed to hear, "Remember your place. Do not cause any more difficulties."

The brothers turned away and Lady Jezreel followed at a more sedate pace. When the family of Count Achan was finally aboard their ship, Lucy breathed a sigh of relief. Now, they could focus on more important things such as helping Kat. Thalia would probably be willing to help her persuade Peter to hold a family-only picnic…and Kat was part of the family. She just needed to time her request so Peter would be more likely to grant it.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! **


	21. Chapter Twenty-One: Unexpected

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Twenty-One: Unexpected

5 Stormfall 1008

Peter scribbled down another page of notes. The report on the northern Giants was only slightly encouraging. Harfang was preoccupied with fighting with the other clans still as they had launched a counterattack on one of the nearer settlements. But, he knew it wouldn't be long before the Giants grew bold enough to turn their eyes to Narnia once more, to ravage her fair green lands and to murder and, worse, consume her inhabitants until they turned fair Narnia into the same wasteland as Ettinsmoor. He could only hope that they would have the time to resolve the crisis with Kat before that happened.

He jumped slightly as two slim hands touched his shoulders then relaxed. Thalia's nut-brown hair swung into his field of vision and then he felt her press a kiss against his temple. Her fingers kneaded his shoulders and he suddenly realized how tense those muscles were…and how good it felt when his wife massaged them. Thalia's breath tickled his ear. "You look worried. Can I help?"

Peter smiled even as he lowered his head with a sigh. "It is nothing, really. I'm just getting ahead of myself and worrying about how the Giants might or might now react. Once they've finished fighting amongst themselves, of course."

Thalia's hands ceased their soothing movements then he felt them move to his hair. The light press of her fingertips against his scalp was most distracting. He leaned back in his chair and Thalia came around to stand by his side, still running her fingers through his hair. "Perhaps it might be wise to get away for a little while. We could go on a picnic Seventhday as your sister suggested last night."

"Lucy put you up to this," Peter groaned. Still, he did not protest when Thalia shut the door then came back over to sit in his lap. He leaned his forehead against hers. "You know she wants Kat to join us."

"I know. But," she toyed with the neck of his tunic then whispered, "we need to let her back into our lives. You cannot deny that Aslan's presence has had a most calming effect on her."

"No, I can't and I don't." He wrapped his arms around her, clasping her close, as he toyed with her hair. "I just… I do not want to put Kat in an indefensible situation. And I don't want to risk you or the girls."

The light green eyes studying him were soft with love and a glimmer of understanding. No condemnation or scolding resided in their depths. Thalia captured his mouth in a passionate kiss then nuzzled his cheek. "Peter… Peter, you are trying to protect us, I know. But, you are also doing her a disfavor now. Trust in Aslan, my love. Trust in the one who has been sister, mother, aunt, and friend to you and your siblings. Her battle shock was triggered when she attempted to protect your sister. I do not think she will attack those her heart tells her are hers to protect even if she does not know why she must do so."

"You truly want to have this picnic, Flower?"

"I think it will be beneficial for all of us. And it will be good practice for Ursula." Thalia smiled at him then she leaned in and whispered against his mouth, "And you and I might enjoy a private picnic of our own Sixthday. Perhaps a private supper in the bower?"

He was even worse at refusing Thalia than he was at denying Lucy something she wanted. Still, the offer to revisit the bower, the same one where they had spent their wedding night, was not one any sane man would refuse. He kissed her softly at first then with a growing passion until a pretty blush had swept up her neck and coated her cheeks. "Very well. We shall have the picnic." Peter winked at her then trailed kisses along the neckline of her dress. "Both picnics."

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7 Stormfall 1008

"It is a simple request." Why Alithia always had to be so stubborn about these things, Oreius never knew. He crossed his arms and frowned at the obstinate mare. "There is no reason you and Ardon cannot do this."

Alithia tossed her hair and stamped one delicate hoof. "There is no reason _you_ cannot do it. You _should_ do it."

"I cannot."

"Why?"

Oreius frowned and cast a dark look at Ardon. His friend merely shrugged, leaving him to fend off Alithia's question on his own. With a sigh, Oreius once again attempted to explain. "It is a very simple request, Alithia, for you and Ardon to explain to Alambiel how she came to be a knight. She is still very uncomfortable around me and-"

"And who is responsible for that?" Grey eyes flashing, Alithia stepped closer to him. "You have been going out of your way to avoid her. She joins Ardon and me for dinner at least once a week, sometimes even thrice a week. And you have had a convenient excuse in place every time we ask you to join us on those nights, but you're more than willing to hear reports on how she is doing. What are you thinking, Oreius?"

"I am protecting her."

"From what?" Alithia stamped her hoof again. "From who? You have all but removed yourself from her life. It is as though you are intentionally diminishing the chance that she will remember you and your courtship. Is that what you want?"

Oreius looked away from the accusing gaze. It was almost as difficult to bear as the bewildered and cautious looks Alambiel gave him every time she saw him. "You do not understand. Alambiel is still dealing with this memory loss and my presence never seems to do aught but exacerbate the unpleasant flashbacks. Ardon, tell her what happened during training last eve!"

The image of Alambiel's fear-filled gaze rose in his mind. She had been doing so well, was so controlled…

_His eyes followed Alambiel's fluid movements as she dodged under Caia's outstretched blade to bring her own sword up rest for a moment against the Centauress' breastplate. Good, that was very good. Alambiel was already flitting away from her 'dead' opponent to face Ardon. _

_Oreius nodded to himself. She was no longer hesitating, no longer second-guessing herself as she settled into the warrior's center. Blades clashed, but she slipped away before Ardon could bear down on her. She darted in then leapt back and up over the claymore. She dropped to one knee then sprang forward, slapping her hand against Ardon's vulnerable middle just before he could bring his claymore to rest against her neck. _

_Unsheathing a one-handed sword, Oreius quickly took Ardon's place. Alambiel didn't so much as glance at his face, all her focus was on blocking his strike. They danced back and forth, blades clashing and just missing their marks. An air of determination cloaked itself around Alambiel, he could sense it in the way she fought. _

_And he almost allowed himself a smile before he recalled Ardon and Caia were watching. Alambiel glanced up and faltered. She missed a step. He knew she could recover and so pressed his advantage. Alambiel and his colts knew just how to counter such a move. He twisted his blade around hers, grounding her attack to a halt. And then- _

_Oreius missed a step when terror-filled eyes met his. He quickly disengaged their swords but it was too late. Alambiel collapsed, her sword clattering to the stones. "Alambiel." She gave no answer save for a gasp as she bowed her head, trembling like a windblown leaf, and clutched at her right wrist. "Alambiel." She still did not respond. His gaze fell to his still-drawn sword and he tensed at the small red line marring the silver blade. _

_"__Alambiel, let me see if you need the healers." Sheathing his sword, he carefully cupped her right hand. Her fingers clenched so he must not have sliced any tendons. Worry for her waged a war with guilt as she gasped the same ragged way that always signaled when his fierce Alambiel had reached her breaking point. He had done this to her. He managed to pull her fingers away from the gash along the side of the heel of her palm and her wrist._

_Noticing that Caia and Ardon had both closed in on them in their concern, Oreius quickly waved them back. He turned back to Alambiel and met her wide blue eyes. The fear and barely contained panic filling them broke his heart even more than how she cringed away from him. She pulled free of his loosened grasp and scrambled backwards, not even managing enough control to rise to her feet, until she bumped into the wall. _

_"__Alambiel. Listen to me. It's not real, what you are seeing is not the truth of things." He kept his distance even as he tried to coax her away from whatever memory or…or hallucination had her in its savage grip. Alambiel didn't respond to him save with fear-laden gasps as she cowered against the wall. She was cowering… That was not his Alambiel. _

_He turned to Caia. "Find Aslan." The Centauress gave a little nod then galloped out of the training yard. Oreius turned back to Alambiel but he knew there was naught he could do to help. Indeed, all he seemed to do was hurt and hinder, no matter his intent. Alambiel did not respond to him or to Ardon. When she seemed aware of their presence, it was almost worse since she was obviously seeing something wicked and terrifying. She did not calm until Aslan padded into the training yard. Oreius and the other two Centaurs left once he saw her collapse against Aslan's side, clutching at His mane and still trembling. _

"Oreius?" Alithia's soft voice pulled him away from the troubling memory. "You do not know that she is reacting to you. Maybe-"

It took all of his self-control to keep the emotion from his voice. Not even his friends needed to know how tight his throat was at the memory of her fear of him. "There is no maybe, Alithia. She only reacts this way when I am present. Sometimes it takes longer for her to react but eventually she does and it is never a good thing."

"So you remove yourself from her life? You weren't even this disengaged from Alambiel when she first returned to Narnia!"

Oreius shook his head. "I am still sworn to be her shield and I will protect her…even from myself."

Alithia stared at him and then her eyes widened. "You mean never to tell her? You mean not to attempt to court her again?"

He hadn't thought that far ahead. Hadn't allowed himself to see the inevitable end. His heart constricted but he kept his features impassive as he gave a curt nod. "I- I need to let her go…for her own good."

"Why? I never saw you as happy as you were with Alambiel. You have been content and pleased, but never happy, not like you were whenever Alambiel was near. Why would you sacrifice all of that?"

Oreius looked away. "Because I love her."

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An outsider would think they were all enjoying themselves, the two young men and four young women (even if the two strands of white did demark the blonde to a more ambiguous age range) seated on a blanket. Peter, though he smiled and listened with half an ear to his sisters chattering with Thalia about plans for the Yule festivities, could not be called relaxed. He felt a slight guilt about always making sure to keep one eye on Kat and not being able to let his guard down but then he studied the sweet, trusting faces of his sisters and felt Thalia lean back against his arm as she settled into a more comfortable position…he simply couldn't chance it.

Kat had been mostly quiet during the picnic but so far she hadn't tensed up or given any sign of paying too close attention to the guards' positions. Oreius might not have been present (and they had escaped too large an escort because of it) but between their personal guards and several Birds, there was no reason to assume they would not be alerted to an outside threat. They were still close to the Cair, after all. Kat raised her head, looking at him and Thalia. No, she was looking past them. "The Bear's too nervous."

They all froze. Edmund glanced at him then turned back to Kat. "What do you mean?"

"The Bear guarding Thalia. She's too nervous and now she's given herself completely away."

Peter glanced over his shoulder and saw Ursula. The Black Bear was standing too far out from the woods and she kept stamping the ground. Bast emerged from the woods, doing her best to be casual, even if her tail was lashing in a sign of clear irritation, as she approached the Bear. Kat murmured, "And now she's exposed another guard. That's a liability waiting to happen."

He glanced at Kat but she was already looking away from the Bear and Tigress. Her gaze focused on the horses and, a moment later, she rose. Her lace dark blue cloak trailed behind her and the wide sleeves fell to her elbows as she pulled the hood up to cover her hair while walking over to the horse she had taken from the stables. None of them had dared mentioned that she had picked a horse other than Pepin. The gelding had been out to pasture, after all, when they went down to the stables.

Lucy smiled a little too brightly. "Well, that's a good sign. She's making notes on the guards' performance."

Over the top of Thalia's head, Peter exchanged a long look with Edmund. Ursula had been the one guard Kat hadn't made any notes on when they were examining the file she had actually kept for royal personal guards. It seemed the lack of notes was not because the Bruin had passed her test as they had assumed, but because she hadn't had a chance to even do her initial evaluation yet. He frowned, now wishing he had listened to Oreius' slight reservation about starting the process with Ursula and not with the Jaguar whom Kat had noted as having potential. But no, he had simply hoped Ursula would be better suited to protecting Thalia by virtue of being a Bear and larger than a Jaguar. And Thalia wasn't meshing well with Ursula either.

He glanced again at where Kat was standing by her horse, seemingly preoccupied with feeding the mare some sort of snack. Sugar cubes if the interest of the other horses, including Philip, was any indication. Sweet Lucy saw a possible positive, but Peter suddenly worried that perhaps Kat making such an observation was not something to be celebrated. If she could still instinctively analyze the weaknesses of the guards, what of Cair Paravel? He wrapped his arm around Thalia's shoulders and pressed a kiss to her hair then whispered in her ear, "We'll try a different guard for you tomorrow, Flower."

Thalia glanced at him and smiled. She was gracious enough not to even mention his mistake in choosing this guard. Though Ursula was certainly of great value on the battlefield and as a perimeter guard, she was also certainly not of the right temperament to be a royal guard. It was a pity that Kat hadn't written down _how_ she actually judged the potential guards. Even Oreius didn't know. Kat merely gave him her opinion and then he would take it into consideration when choosing or recommending guards to the Four of them.

The next hour seemed to crawl by even when Kat rejoined them at the blanket. Peter kept wanting to put his hand to his belt, ensure that Rhindon yet hung there, waiting to be drawn in defense of his family. But, he could not do that. It would alarm Thalia and his sisters unnecessarily. And he didn't want to risk what possible reaction it might invoke in Kat. Still…still, he had a bad feeling about the picnic. It was almost the sense that they had lingered overlong and things were no longer as safe as they were earlier. But, none of the guards reacted to it. All right, he wasn't entirely certain Edmund's Wolves were nearby anymore since they usually crawled over to have their bellies rubbed by Lucy as soon as the main meal was finished, but his Tigers and the Queens' Guard would have signaled him and Edmund if there was an approaching threat.

Peter surged to his feet. His face felt warm against the cool, northern breeze as everyone, including Kat looked up at him. He quickly smiled and held his hand out to Thalia. "Though I regret saying so, I fear our picnic has run its course. If you ladies intend to plan such marvelous festivities for Yule, the other ladies of the Cair should be informed promptly, don't you think?"

Lucy pouted playfully. "Oh, Peter! It's not even dark yet."

"No, but it will be within the hour, Lu." He smiled again as he helped Thalia to her feet then pressed a kiss to her hand. "And I plan to retire early tonight."

His Flower blushed delightfully while Edmund rolled his eyes. "We didn't need to know that, Pete. Come on, Lu, I bet I can beat you and Su back to the Cair."

Lucy's eyes lit up at the challenge. "Come on, Susan!" She took off in a flurry of skirts after Edmund. For a moment Susan didn't look as though she would answer the challenge, but then a smile curved her pink lips and she caught her skirts up to just above her ankles as she chased after their younger siblings.

Peter shook his head in wonderment as Susan beat Lucy to the horses and then laughed as she turned her mare toward Cair Paravel before Edmund had even swung up into the saddle. Kat hadn't even moved toward the horses yet. She was collecting the picnic basket and blanket. Peter kept Thalia by his side until Kat had passed them on her way to the horses. He feared when Kat glanced over her shoulder at them that she realized he didn't want her at their backs, but she gave no indication of it.

Kat directed her horse into an easy canter. The feeling that something was off continued to plague Peter. But, he still couldn't explain it. And then Kat's horse abruptly slowed to a walk before halting as she favored a hoof. Peter reined his horse in. "What's wrong?"

"She may have picked up a stone." Kat slid to the ground as Thalia reined her own horse in. Peter didn't disguise his frown as the mare flinched when Kat's questing fingers slid over her leg. Kat murmured soothingly to the animal as she examine the hoof as well. "Picked up a stone. I can't ride her until I get this out and maybe not even then if she's taken lame."

He almost voiced a protest. But… Kat had only fed the snack to her mare. Could that be tied to her horse's sudden lameness in some odd way? He also didn't want Thalia to be vulnerable. He could hear Edmund's Wolves howling in the distance, maybe the girls had just overtaken him and Philip. "Will you be all right?"

Kat glanced around then nodded. "Ptah is with me. This shouldn't take long."

He wasn't sure if he was making the right decision, but Peter nodded. Ptah emerged from the woods as he did so. Riding ahead with Thalia, Peter could only pray that he would not come to regret this moment.

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Oreius folded his arms across his chest as he looked out over the sea. The waves splashed against the edge of the lower pavilion, not quite making it over and onto the tiled floor. The weather had finally cooled over the last sennight but it was still warm and dry for Stormfall. Another storm was brewing on the horizon, perhaps this time it would reach Narnia.

He didn't allow himself to reflect on the conversation with Alithia. He had left her and Ardon's quarters as quickly as he could. His heart still constricted at the thought of what he must do, what he had been denying until that afternoon. A Presence joined him, patient and waiting until he lowered his gaze. "I need to let her go."

"Are you prepared for what that might mean, My son?" Aslan's voice held no condemnation as He continued, "If Alambiel should not recover her memories, what might happen due to your decision?"

Oreius shifted his hooves. Throat tight, he could barely get the words out. "She will find love again."

"And if she does? If your beloved Alambiel gives her heart to another, unaware that she originally gave it to you, and she looks with favor on a man or another Centaur. What will you do? Will you trust Me still?"

"Yes, I will trust You still." He glanced down to meet the Great Lion's golden gaze then glanced back out over the sea. "If Alambiel chooses another, if someone earns her love, I will not gainsay it. She deserves… Alambiel has always deserved to be happy and to be loved. I won't stand in the way if she finds love again."

"And yourself?"

Oreius flinched. His heart rebelled at the mere thought of loving any save Alambiel. He shook his head. "No."

"No?" His Lord let out a low rumble. "No, you do not deserve love as well? No, you doubt you could allow yourself to love someone other than Alambiel if that is to be your story?"

"I…" Oreius fixed his eyes on a lonely albatross bobbing in the wind above the waves. The questions posed were ones he did not want to think of. Was it not enough that he had realized he must let Alambiel go? "She opened my heart. I cannot think of another who could possibly take her place in my life. Even if I am alone, I do not think I could love another."

"Could you not?"

He slowly turned to face Aslan. He had the same look about Him as when He had first appointed him General. As though He knew something very important that he had not yet learned. "Aslan?"

"Could you not love another? You once considered another lady before Alambiel leapt into your life and heart."

Oreius froze. Surely He could not mean…

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Ptah flattened his ears. Something was wrong. He glanced around but the forest did not give up any signs of what it was he sensed. The only thing wrong was… The Princess Royal was gone. He bounded back through the trees. His whiskers stiffened as he caught the scent of death. Growling low in his throat, Ptah crept through the underbrush. His lady's horse was lying in the middle of the road, foam and blood dripping from the dumb beast's mouth. But of the Princess Royal, there was no sign.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! O.o **


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two: Bloodstained

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Twenty-Two: Bloodstained

Oreius froze. Surely, He could not mean… No. "She never held my heart." Flicking his tail, he pawed at the pavilion floor with one hoof. "Tanith is-" He cut himself off as the warning bells began to sound the alarm. An attack.

He looked to Aslan for permission to leave. The Lion bowed His head. "Go!" Galloping up the winding path to the courtyard, Oreius prayed this did not involve the Four or Alambiel.

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Peter kept a wary eye on the road behind him. He didn't have a good feeling about leaving Kat behind. Edmund and the girls were waiting just ahead, still bickering playfully about who had reached the grand oak tree first. Peter shifted in his saddle just as Susan said something and then lightly touched her heels to her horse's sides and galloped toward the Cair's open gate. As she crossed into the wide lawn between the woods and the walls, Peter called softly, "Babur!"

The Tiger emerged from the underbrush. "Sire?"

"Kat and Ptah have been held up by a lame horse. I want you to take some of the Queens' guard and provide a larger escort for the Princess Royal. Make sure they're safe and I want-" Peter cut himself off as something stung his upper arm.

He glanced down. Blood tinged the edges of a cut through his sleeve. What… Lucy and Thalia both screamed. Peter looked up just in time to see Susan toppling off her horse, the black shaft of an arrow springing from her back. "Noooo!" The guards were emerging and Peter heard Edmund shouting at them to get Lucy and Thalia to safety. Peter galloped over to where Susan lay motionless, leaping off his horse before the animal had come to a complete stop.

She looked like a broken doll, her dark hair falling over her face and her skirts all askew from getting caught on the stirrup before her horse bolted. One hand was pressed against her left shoulder, blood seeping past her pale fingers. Peter knelt beside her, gently moving her hand away so he could see. "Shh," he whispered when she made a little sound of distress, "shh, Su. It's going to be okay. I promise. I just need to see."

Peter barely kept his horror from showing as he stared at the arrowhead protruding from his little sister's shoulder. It was barely two inches above her heart. Susan's bloodstained fingers clutched at his sleeves. Her bloodless lips trembled then formed a tiny smile. "It's… S'okay, Peter. Aslan…"

Her lips kept moving but her lung must have collapsed. She was losing too much blood. Pounding hooves raced up to them. He glanced up to meet Oreius' grim face. The Centaur had brought enough soldiers to form a shield wall. Just beyond Captain Ardon, he spotted Lucy racing toward them with another of the Centaurs keeping pace, raising his shield between her and the woods. No. "The cordial! Lucy, get the cordial!"

Susan's fingers slipped from his sleeves. Her blood was soaking his leggings and an ever-widening circle of grass. "Lucy! Lucy, hurry!" He didn't expect this, not with her, oh Aslan, not with her. Somewhere behind him soldiers were hunting for the coward who'd shot her, but it didn't matter. Not when her life's blood was pouring out, staining his hands crimson. "It's going to be okay. It's going to be all right. I promise, I promise. Just hang on. You're going to live, Susan. You're going to live. Just hang on."

_Aslan, please let Susan live. Please. _Susan's eyes were still moving but they were beginning to cloud over. He didn't dare move his hands. Edmund dropped down next to him, his pale face taut and jaws clenched. He immediately stroked Susan's hair. "You're going to be all right, Su. Lucy's bringing the cordial."

Peter nodded, throat now too tight to say anything. He increased the pressure around the arrowhead. Susan's little whimper of pain cut him to the quick. "I'm sorry, Susie. I'm sorry, I know it hurts but I have to keep the pressure on." He exchanged a look with Edmund. They would have to take the arrow out before Lucy gave her the cordial. And where was Lucy?

As if his thoughts had summoned her, Lucy raced back to their little knot with her cordial in hand. Peter glanced again at Edmund. His brother nodded and wrapped a gloved hand around the arrowhead since the rest of the shaft had broken off when she fell. Peter whispered, "This is going to hurt, Susan, but then it will be better. Promise." He looked up. "Now."

Susan's cry was weak but it still tore at him as she tried to arch against the pain when Edmund pulled the remains of the arrow free. Then, mercifully, Lucy immediately placed the cordial against Susan's lips. Susan shuddered in his arms and then took a gasping breath. Pressing a kiss against her hair, Peter cradled her close. "You're all right, Susie. You're all right." Lucy and Edmund both threw their arms around them.

Peter raised his head and met Oreius' gaze. "Find the Princess Royal. She might have fallen victim to the same assassin." As the Centaur bowed slightly then galloped off with two more soldiers, Peter stood, lifting Susan, and gently placed her on Philip's back. Lucy climbed up behind her then a detachment of soldiers escorted them into the Cair where he caught a glimpse of Thalia standing just inside the gate. The red stain on the grass mocked his inability to protect his family, to listen to his instincts. He shouldn't have agreed to the picnic…

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"General!"

Oreius looked up. A Squirrel sat on the branch above him, wringing his forepaws. "General. I heard the soldiers talking about an assassination attempt on the Gentle. I…I might have seen the assassin!"

"Where? What did they look like?"

"Couldn't see any faces. No faces showing beneath that hood. But, the cloak. Yes, the cloak was lacy and dark with full sleeves like what the Queens wear at times."

Oreius stamped a hoof. The Squirrel was young and nervous but he had to ask. "Will you show me?"

"Oh Lion, no! I- I can't. It might know and come after me and mine! Up the hill. The archer was up the hill!" The Squirrel dashed back up into the tree, sending leaves fluttering down in its wake.

Oreius waved to his soldiers, signaling them to move up the hill. There was no one there. "Do you have a scent?"

One of the Big Cats looked up at him, fangs bared in a silent snarl. "None. It is as though no one was here even though I can see fresh footprints."

The footprints were very light. A soft-soled slipper… One of the Wolves howled and then a Big Cat snarled. Oreius galloped down the north side of the hill. A tall hooded figure wearing the distinctive lace cloak the Squirrel had described was surrounded by several guards…including Ptah. Dread filled him even as he thundered, "Turn around."

The figure slowly turned, clutching a bow. Oreius reached out and flipped the hood back.

Alambiel stared up at him, eyes wide. "I can explain."

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! O.o**


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three: Control

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Twenty-Three: Control

Ptah didn't meet her eyes as he sat in front of her, blocking her from fully entering the bedroom. Alambiel could hear the soldiers searching the study behind her but they wouldn't find anything in there. She hadn't been in there save for the first time she was being reintroduced to her quarters by the Queens. She didn't think she had shot the elder Queen but…but her memory was so unreliable. How could she expect them to trust her admittedly vague story when _she_ didn't even know for sure if it was true and not another hallucination?

The General pointed to the lower drawer of the wardrobe. "Remove it." Two Satyrs instantly obeyed and then they all froze when something rattled inside. Alambiel's eyes widened but she could not force any words past her lips. The General made a sharp gesture and one Satyr revealed the false bottom. Alambiel couldn't see what was inside but it made the General stamp his hoof. As the Satyr lifted out a quiver full of black arrows and a dull brown drawstring purse, the General finally looked over his shoulder. His face was as expressive as granite. "Escort her to the council chamber."

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Edmund drummed his fingers against the armrest. This didn't make any sense to him. Kat trying to assassinate Susan? He leaned forward slightly, studying her face as she stood almost too calmly before them and the rest of the council. "So you are saying you cannot recall what happened between leaving the road and when you were found with the bow in your hand?"

"Yes." Kat didn't flinch at the glares shot her way by several of the council members.

"And we cannot prove that you _were_ the one who loosed the arrow."

Peridan frowned. "What of the trackers? And the Squirrel's statement?"

Edmund glanced at the man, but he knew Peridan was only raising the questions on everyone else's minds. He looked back at Kat who was still wearing the lacy dark blue cloak from before and then he gestured to Ptah and Sekhmet. The Leopard and Jaguar stepped into the center of the room just to the right of Kat. "Tell us what you found on the trail leading from the assassin's chosen perch."

Sekhmet growled low in her throat. "There was no scent trail. Only footprints left by a lady's soft-soled slipper. And then we followed the footprints to find the Princess Royal clutching the bow in her hands."

"I had difficulty following the Princess Royal's trail from where her mount had collapsed in the road to meeting up with the other soldiers and the General as well," Ptah admitted, tail lashing in barely contained irritation. "There was no scent and my lady's is most distinctive. The bag discovered in her wardrobe is filled with a powder that has no scent and it disguised the scent of no less than three soldiers. Even though my eyes beheld them, my nose claimed they were not before me." The Leopard shuddered, no doubt it was most disconcerting for a Talking Beast who relied on his nose to suddenly be unable to smell armed soldiers no matter that they were his fellows.

"It is all circumstantial then," Peter stated heavily. "However, there is still the matter of the black arrows being found in the same secret compartment along with this powder, which, as testified by Lieutenant Caia and several other archers, are designed to improve even the most mediocre of archers' shots."

Edmund hid a frown. "A simple matter to resolve. Though it shall require this proceeding to move down to the archery grounds."

Kat only looked mildly bemused at the change of venue. Even when she took the bow and a single arrow to loose at the target, she didn't seem flustered. In fact, Edmund thought she was curious. Kat drew the arrow back to the corner of her mouth then loosed it. The black arrow sliced through the air and buried itself in the grass a good five feet from the target. "Give her another one."

Again Kat loosed an arrow. This time it sailed past the target and buried up to the fletching in a hale bale. Ten more times she loosed an arrow and every time it missed. Falling short, overshooting the target, and going wide. If Kat's freedom weren't at stake, it would have been as amusing as the last time she had been on the archery range. There was only one black arrow left.

Mr. Tumnus was fiddling with his red scarf when he quietly asked, "How do we know for certain that the Princess Royal is not…pretending to be this abhominable at archery?"

Caia immediately retorted, "No one is this abhominable on purpose and the Princess Royal has not troubled herself to touch a bow in almost seven years."

Edmund raised his hand. "Give her the last arrow."

He prayed for wisdom and that his hunch was correct. Aslan Himself was elsewhere in the Cair. Nevertheless, He would hear him. Kat took the black arrow. She drew it back then loosed. The arrow struck the target…in the leg.

Stepping forward before anyone could stop him, Edmund drew his dagger and presented it handle first to Kat. "Throw this."

The words had barely left his mouth when Peridan stepped forward. "No." But, it was already too late. Kat twisted and threw the dagger. It sunk up to the hilt in the dead center of the target. Oreius gave him a stern look but Edmund was more than satisfied.

"She cannot fake a skill so ingrained it is practically second nature. The Princess Royal did not loose the arrow that struck the Gentle. The real assassin framed her."

He glanced at Peter. His brother looked from the haphazard arrows to the knife sunk in the target then gave a curt nod. "We are in agreement. The Princess Royal is cleared of all charges. And, General, We trust you will not rest until the real assassin has been removed as a threat."

Oreius bowed, face grave as ever though his eyes did dart in Kat's direction for the briefest of moments. "Yes, High King."

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He slumped forward, struggling to control his breathing as his depleted magic struggled to work the healing spell. It was well that Mordad, once known as Angra, did not know of this weakness. But, blood magic always demands a high price. He was not human but neither was he a demon, at least not quite. His thoughts sought those long ago days only for him to ruthlessly turn away from it all. He would not remember what that Witch had done to him.

It had been easy enough to set the spell that turned the sugar cubes to poison as soon as the horse swallowed them. The true price had been extracted from his layered spells. He had been successful in laying the spell of false steps luring Lew's Daughter to follow a trail she saw only in her mind until she picked up the bow left by the assassin and in the spell of unseen things, preventing her guard from finding her. His last spell, one of scrying and ensnarement, should have latched securely onto her weakened and troubled state of mind. Instead, it had snapped and rebounded, draining his magic further, as the Great Cat's golden gaze paralyzed him and His roar deafened him.

He finally pushed himself up off the small dais. He had hoped to avoid the Lion's gaze…it laid too much bare. But now that the Great Cat knew he was involved… No, he would not abandon his plans. He had a far better strategy than Jadis ever did. Pulling on his gloves, he resolved to see what news Mordad would tell him (and how it would align with his observation of events).

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Peter opened his eyes, unsure of what had woke him. The night shadows filled the bedchamber but showed no sign of an intruder. Thalia's soft, rhythmic breaths tickled the back of his shoulder and her arm rested on his waist, his own hands cradling her hand against his heart. He closed his eyes again, but even the feel of his wife pressing against his back and her gentle breathing was not enough to lull him back to sleep.

With excruciating care, Peter slipped out of the bed. Thalia stirred but she didn't wake. Peter pulled the bedcovers up then pressed a light kiss to her hair. Then he dressed in a loose tunic and breeches (but did not trouble himself with his boots…or the rarely worn slippers) before slipping out. Bast and Babur both raised their heads but he only signaled for them to remain where they could guard Thalia (Sekhmet was still on a trial basis though the Jaguar was already proving promising). Babur followed him anyway.

He wandered through the halls on silent feet. Barely paying any attention to his surroundings, it was a surprise when he found himself in the Hall of Remembrance. But he was not alone. At the end of the Hall, before the oldest surviving tapestry of Aslan and the creation of Narnia (stitched by Queen Helen's own hand) sat the Great Lion. Peter should have announced his presence or perhaps waited to be invited by Aslan to join Him, but he did not. Instead, compelled by the silent yearning of his heart, Peter walked right up to Aslan and knelt by His paws. The sweet perfume that clung to His golden mane filled his lungs and he took a deeper breath for the smell was comforting and familiar as though all the best warmth of a father's love had been captured and distilled into a scent.

"Your heart is troubled, Peter Pevensie."

"Yes, Sir," Peter bowed his head and felt incredibly like that thirteen-year-old boy who couldn't believe he was being trusted with a kingdom when he couldn't even protect his own family. "I…I've been terribly hard on Kat. Thalia warned me, Edmund warned me, Susan warned me as did Lucy, but still I could not let go of this suspicion that she is not what she seems no matter how I desired to do so. I just kept feeling that something was not right. And I failed to keep Susan safe."

"Did you?" Aslan's low rumble swept over him and brought to mind the great rolling waves of the sea. "And if Susan had perished this day, would she not have been safe in My paws? Would she not be with Me in My country where there is no sting of death nor bite of pain?"

Peter sighed. "I know she would be, yet I do not wish to lose any more of my family before they have lived long and fruitful lives. It is selfish, I know, but I cannot help but dread a long separation from them should they be called to Your country before me."

"So do all whose stories contain far more chapters than those who have only a few chapters, yet I will preserve them all. If they but call out for My help, I will ease the sting in their lives for that is My promise. But, it is not truly the thought of death that troubles you this night, is it, My son?"

A fresh wave of guilt washed over him as he knelt before the Great Lion and he could only focus his gaze on those great velveted paws as he nodded miserably. "I did not trust You about Kat. I… Kat is family and I have been treating her as the enemy."

"Why?"

Peter cleared his throat, feeling guilt and shame war for the better position. "I couldn't predict her anymore. I couldn't completely believe that she's not being controlled by an outside influence be it by possession or even a blackmail that she could not ignore. After what happened with Count Achan, I just…I couldn't bring myself to trust her with the treasures of my heart, my siblings and my wife. And I could not completely surrender my attempt to control the situation to You."

"Peter. You and all you hold dear are even dearer to Me. You are Mine. Alambiel is also Mine. There is one who attempts to control her but her heart is yet secure in My care and his attempts are foiled." There was just the slightest hint of scolding in His tone but then Aslan's rumble changed to a purr as He gave him a Lion's kiss. "Peter William Pevensie, I appointed you to be the protector of Narnia and your family. You have tried to do what is required of you, My son, this I know. It is not an easy task I give to you but you must continue to learn to let go of the things you cannot change or control into My care even as you clasp your loved ones and your country close to your breast."

Feeling the guilt finally slough off him, Peter nodded. "I understand, Aslan, and I shall try harder to give my burdens to You." He frowned as he considered the Lion's words. "Wait, what did You mean about someone trying to control Kat? Who is it?"

Aslan purred. "All things shall be revealed in their proper time. For now, My son, content yourself with the knowledge that My paws can hold more than even you can imagine. I shall be with you and your loved ones throughout this trial, Peter."

Peter opened his mouth to question him further but then he met Aslan's golden gaze. Aslan breathed on him and he felt the worries and possible meanings melt away. Aslan rumbled, "Be at peace, Peter Pevensie."

Rising as Aslan also stood, Peter walked with the Great Lion through the halls. Aslan left his side at some point, but he felt no alarm. Indeed, he only felt a pleasant weariness sinking in his bones as though he had fought a battle and come through the other side whole and with everyone he cared about safely carried through it all as well. Slipping back into his bedchamber, he tossed his tunic into a chair then eased back into bed.

Thalia's sleepy gaze met his and she murmured, "Did He help?"

"Yes," Peter stated then added thoughtfully, "all I needed to do was ask for and accept His help." He wrapped an arm around her then cradled her hands against his heart as he bussed a kiss against the top of her head. "Go back to sleep, Flower." As he held his wife close, Peter silently thanked Aslan for holding them all within the shelter of His paws.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! **


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four: Veneer

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Veneer

8 Stormfall 1008

"Peter." He groaned then turned his head away from the fingers brushing over his face. A soft giggle filled his ears then a soft weight pressed against his chest. "Peter, you must wake. You missed training."

Peter opened his eyes and blinked at the sight of his wife's laughing face. "Training?"

Thalia nodded. "It is Firstday, my love."

He groaned and sat up, still holding his wife against his chest. "Did Oreius send someone?"

"Yes. I told him you were indisposed and to inform the General that missing one morn of training is not a terrible thing."

Peter grinned as he shifted her to sit on his outstretched legs. "You did. Now I wish I had been awake just so I could watch you do it." He tilted her chin back up when she blushed. "So, if my morn is now clear of training, what plans do you have for me instead, Flower?"

Thalia gave him that sweetly playful smile he loved. "Breakfast is waiting and then I thought you might enjoy spending the rest of the morn with me, relaxing."

"I do like relaxing." He trailed his fingers down her back then brushed his lips against hers. "I don't suppose I could persuade you to go fishing."

"You have court this afternoon and the Zelaian delegation insists on your presence at their formal arrival."

Peter groaned and rested his forehead on her shoulder. "Then I shall have to steal you away another day." He turned his head and nibbled on her neck, making Thalia squirm and playfully push him away. She gracefully sprang off the bed with a laugh. Peter tossed the bedcovers aside. Breakfast could wait until after he chased and caught his cheeky Flower.

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"It should be lovely, don't you think, Kat?"

Ptah's large paw prodded the back of her calf. Alambiel looked up and quickly nodded. "It should be." Then she pushed Ptah's paw away with her heel. She didn't need _that_ much help remembering to respond to the other names. King Peter and his consort still hadn't joined them even though it was now luncheon.

General Oreius had joined them a few moments ago and she hoped he hadn't realized she had been staring at him again. She could not quite explain why she had begun to feel a little drawn to him. Most likely it was because he seemed more willing to believe her (yesterday being the exception). But, still there was the fact that her dreams always worsened and she saw that evil face transpose itself over his nobly stern mien…and that made her nervous.

Queen Lucy suddenly grabbed her hand, startling her though Alambiel did manage to suppress her reaction. "Oh, we must hurry if we're to meet Aslan in the gardens, Kat! Come on!" The youngest Royal was off in a whirl of bronze skirts and flying hair.

Alambiel glanced uncertainly at the other two Royals but they seemed focused on their conversation regarding some diplomatic protocols. Their unease around her had lessened considerably since her abysmal archery attempt yesterday. Rising to her feet, she felt eyes on her and glanced over her shoulder to meet the General's impassive scrutiny. Alambiel met his gaze for a moment then felt a sudden tightening in her chest…as though her very heart had constricted. Why? Her discomfort and unease at the unexpected feeling prompted her to turn away as quickly as she could without seeming affected.

Hurrying out of the solarium, Alambiel caught a glimpse of Lucy's bronze skirts whipping around the corner down the long corridor to her left. Ptah was trotting by her side until she finally sighed. "Ptah, catch up to the Valiant and kindly explain to her that _I_ am not supposed to go running through the Cair. It makes people nervous."

He hesitated then nodded. "We will retrace our steps to you."

As the Leopard picked up his pace and disappeared around the corner, Alambiel lengthened her stride as much as she could without running. A soft noise came from behind her. Alambiel glanced over her shoulder then stumbled to a halt. Queen Lucy was darting down the corridor toward the solarium. But, was she not ahead of her and Ptah? Perhaps there was another shortcut she couldn't remember and Queen Lucy had doubled back to fetch something. She might as well ask. Turning on her heel, Alambiel hurried after the youngest Royal.

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Thalia could not help the blush warming her cheeks as she and Peter finally arrived in the solarium and brought an abrupt halt to the conversation there. Peter cleared his throat. "I hope everyone's had a pleasant morn."

"Not so pleasant as to skip training, Pete," King Edmund pronounced with a definite smirk. Her husband glowered at his brother then darted a slightly guilty look at where the General had merely arched an eyebrow. Edmund glanced around them. "Back so soon, Lu?"

Turning, Thalia noticed that Lucy looked a little…on edge. She just nodded. Queen Susan rose, a small book in hand. "Did you just now realize that you forgot this book of poems you were going to show Aslan, Sister?"

Lucy nodded again as she hurried toward Queen Susan. She extended her left hand for the book. Thalia frowned slightly but then her brother-in-law shouted, "No!"

Not even a heartbeat later, the Princess Royal grasped Queen Lucy by the wrist and yanked her away from her sister. Just as the General and Kings were converging on them, Thalia gasped at the knife suddenly in Alambiel's hand. The blade slashed through the air at Queen Lucy's throat. Queen Lucy's scream cut off.

Thalia barely registered how Sekhmet pressed her bulk against her legs to usher her away from the struggle. The sickening snap of bones filled the air and those surrounding Alambiel and Queen Lucy froze. King Edmund and Peter stepped back revealing the Princess Royal pinning a struggling figure still clad in a bronze-colored dress but now unruly black hair shot through with silver tumbled about her shoulders and covered her face. Alambiel's tone was cool and dispassionate as she briskly ordered, "Cease your squirming or I'll change my mind about not breaking your other arm." She offered a wicked-looking carved amulet to Peter. "I should think someone so desperate to murder the Queens would at least know Queen Lucy would never wear an amulet with Nasreddin carved onto its face and Tash onto its back."

The gasps were audible as the Princess Royal dragged the woman to her feet and the long tousled locks feel back from her face. "Lady Jezreel," Queen Susan murmured.

The woman sneered at them. "Stupid children. Had I known that this she-demon would foil my son by killing him, I never would have accepted the contract."

The Princess Royal allowed Bast and Babur to flank the woman, their fur bristling, and then she handed a cruel dagger with a notched blade to the stern-faced General. "The blade's probably poisoned."

Peter's hand rested on his dagger as he ground out, "Who sent you?"

Jezreel laughed. There was a tinge of madness to it. Thalia shuddered as the woman's hate-filled eyes bore into them all. "One who paid my son and I to eliminate the Queens and throw your kingdom into chaos. We were told the she-demon would be carrion by the time my son arrived, but she escaped and killed my poor Achan! He offered me the chance to exact my revenge on her by framing her as the assassin. I accepted it. Tash curse you all!" Suddenly she leapt to her feet and sprinted out the open balcony doors. She didn't even scream as she hurtled over the railing.

"What happened?"

They all turned to see Queen Lucy standing in the doorway with Aslan and Ptah on either side of her. Thalia couldn't even force the smallest of explanations past her lips. Peter turned to the Centaur General. "Cair Paravel is on high alert. No one moves without an escort and no one leaves the Cair's walls until we track down the men claiming to be Achan's cousins. In all likelihood, they are also assassins."

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Mordad glared at the man. "It was a simple task."

"Jezreel's thirst for revenge blinded her and made her reckless. After they pulled her body from the rocks, the gates were closed." Ammon spat on the cave floor, coming perilously close to Mordad's boots. "The army is constantly patrolling around the walls and through the woods. The Four have not been seen outside the castle for five days. Nor has the she-demon."

"That she-demon is crippled! And you still fall to her! You should have followed Jezreel's example." Before Ammon could react, Mordad plunged his dagger into the man's throat. He swore and kicked the body. "All this for Ishara Reborn! All for the chance to break her."

"And now you have no assassins left to send against the Four or to fetch Lew's Daughter. Very foolish, Angra."

"I am Mordad!" Narrowing his eyes at the hooded sorcerer, Mordad sneered, "What if we discovered you are mortal, after all, O Most Powerful of Sorcerers?"

A softly hissed word echoed through the cave then Mordad screamed as pain, a horrid and indescribable pain, enveloped every inch of his being. A moment later, he collapsed panting to the floor. The demon of a sorcerer's mocking words assaulted his ears, "One more chance, Mordad. And, Mordad, if you attempt to double-cross me, imagine feeling the pain you just experienced for years."

He was going to kill that demon, Tash help him. He would kill the demon sorcerer and then break Ishara Reborn completely before killing her too. He was Mordad, not a filthy rat from the gutters to be kicked about by those who imagined themselves his betters.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review!**


	25. Chapter Twenty-Five: Memory

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Memory

_She was painting… It was a little silly to run off and finish the mural before she even finished the letter, but she wanted to and he would be happy when she told him. Besides, it didn't take long for her to apply the final touches (even if she had barely waited long enough for it to dry properly to keep the paints from being muddy). She might even have time to slip into the nursery for a bit. Her hand was steady as she added a little more detail to the Centauress. She stepped back, admiring the work. Ah, there was one more spot that could use a bit more definition. She cleaned off the brush then chose a different brush, this one with a narrow fan. Dipping it in a creamy white, she added a stronger line between the Centauress' stocking and the rest of her leg. There was a faint scuff of a boot against marble. She turned her head. _

_A man she did not recognize was watching her. Hadassah House had no visitors aside from Ptah and herself. Turning so her back wasn't as exposed, she watched this scruffy-looking islander closely even as she gave him a smile full of false sweetness. "Are you lost this night, sir?_

_He didn't hesitate. She dropped her brush and palette just as something stung her neck. Reaching one hand up, she jerked out a black feathered dart. She unsheathed one knife just as the man rushed her. He blocked her initial attack and clamped down on her left arm, preventing her from reaching her other knife. He was good. She was better. _

_Just as she twisted to drive her knife into his shoulder, the room tilted in a nauseating manner. Her equilibrium was shaken and she misjudged the angle and speed of her strike. She kicked out at his legs but the man bore her to the floor, pinning her knife between their bodies. No, she refused to allow this to happen. Her vision swam again but she muscled through it. She would fight and she would immobilize this intruder (she needed to find out who had sent him and who had told him she would be at Hadassah House). _

_She kneed him in the gut and his fetid breath was expelled in a rush. His eyes narrowed at her and then his thick fingers twisted in her hair. She raked her nails down his cheek and attempted to bring her feet up in order to shove him off. His gaze only grew colder and more determined. His grip on her hair tightened and then he slammed her head against the floor. The blow stunned her and then black spots danced before her eyes. He slammed her head against the floor once more and then it all went black…_

_She was lying on her side. A spot on her neck just below her jaw throbbed, probably from that dart. Her head was pounding where the man had slammed her head against the floor and splintered wood was digging into her skin. She tried to push herself up but was brought up short with the clink of metal chains. No. The floor rocked and she realized she was on a ship. Wonderful. With her track record with Murphy and his blasted Law, she was probably on her way to the slave market in Tashbaan. She hoped not…she had too much of a reputation among the Calormene diplomats and traders for that to be a good thing. _

_The door opened and the man from before stomped in. She smirked when she realized he was still limping slightly. "Demon witch!"_

_"__Insults from an unknown man mean little to me."_

_He swore most colorfully then kicked her in the head. When she woke again, the floor no longer rocked. Splintered wood had been replaced with cold, uneven rock. She was still in chains. Darkness surrounded her but she could just detect the outline of rock walls. A cave. _

_Something didn't feel right. She wasn't alone. She could hear their breathing and the soft shuffle of booted feet surrounding her. They were waiting…for what? A signal, she decided. Yes, they were waiting for a signal._

_The shuffling continued for several long minutes until with a burst of running steps, the attack began. She listened and managed to duck under the kick aimed for her head. She rolled but was brought up short by her chains. The first kick landed against her hip. She kicked out and tripped the second attacker as his curses attested. Then they began to attack in greater numbers. For every blow she managed to block or avoid, two more found her. She fought until the sharp pain arcing through her ribs warned of a possibly cracked rib. Curling in on herself, she tried to keep from gasping or panicking as the blows continued to fall. She could outlast them…she hoped._

_And then the attack ceased. Boots tramped away from her. She wanted to get back to her feet, but her ribs protested at any movement. She flinched when torchlight flared bright in the darkness. A low laugh filled the cave, coming out of the darkness just beyond where the flames cast their flickering light. "Ah, Ishara Reborn. I have waited for this moment." _

_She gasped, trying to breathe past the pain of her definitely cracked rib. How long had he stood there watching as his men beat her? She didn't know and she didn't care. "Why are you doing this?"_

_"__Because I can." He stepped into the ring of torchlight and circled her then stopped behind her and grabbed her throat, squeezing. "Because I want to savor every scream that comes from your pretty mouth before I kill you and leave your dead body for your lover to find."_

_She could only stare at him as he circled back around in front of her. His cruel slash of a mouth tilted in a sardonic smirk. "What is this? You do not remember me, Ishara Reborn?"_

_"__I had hoped you were dead. But, rest assured, I do remember you, Mordad."_

_Mordad's cruel pleasure at her response was all too obvious as he suddenly stroked her cheek then captured her chin in his hand. He leaned in close enough that she half-feared he was about to attempt to kiss her and half-hoped he would try such a moronic move so she could headbutt him. Then he smirked again and pressed his face against her hair, inhaling loudly. Revulsion skittered down her spine as he breathed in her ear. "I shall enjoy breaking you, Ishara Reborn."_

Bolting upright, Alambiel gasped then jumped as thunder clapped right outside her windows. Scrambling off the bed, she pulled the drapes back to see thick sheets of rain pouring down. She had fallen asleep while reading again, but this time she had no desire to return to the tale of King Frank the First. Her fingers ached to turn to a different craft.

She yanked open the bottom drawer of the wardrobe and pulled out her drawing supplies. An evil face flashed before her eyes. No, she would not let her fears control her this time. She needed to do this.

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"General!"

Oreius looked up, taking care to keep himself from showing any emotion as he met Alambiel's gaze. "My Lady?" He was still struggling with letting her go and calling her his lady was the last tie to the future he knew was not to be, but he could not bring himself to sever it just yet.

Alambiel held out a drawing. "Him. He's the one who arranged for me to be abducted."

It was only through sheer effort that he did not crumple the drawing when he saw Mordad's face. That he had failed to ensure the man would no longer be a threat was unforgivable. If he had, then this situation would not be- Oreius flicked his tail then bowed slightly. "Thank you for your aid, My Lady. I will see this fiend is found and removed as a threat."

Alambiel was studying his face. "You are angry? I thought it would be of help to draw him."

He hadn't thought she could see through him so easily anymore. Clearing his throat, Oreius shook his head. "No, My Lady, it is of great help. Knowing who was responsible will allow us to find him at a swifter pace." A shadow appeared in her eyes and he barely stopped himself before he cupped her cheek. "Is there anything else I can help you with, My Lady?"

Alambiel shook her head. "No." She handed him a folded sheet of parchment. "This is what I remember of the abduction." Thunder clapped and she started just as he reached out to take the parchment. Their hands brushed and Alambiel's eyes widened slightly. Did she remember something, anything about their relationship? She darted a glance at him but he could not read the emotions in their blue depths. "I hope it helps, General."

She retreated before he could say anything else. Oreius shook his head. He had frightened her again. The storm outside the Cair raged on when he joined the Kings for a meeting. He watched as his golden colt grew stern and his dark colt's eyes flashed when they read the accounting of Alambiel's abduction. His own blood still boiled with the hottest rage whenever he allowed his mind to dwell on Mordad's reported words and actions. But beneath that was the cold horror at the fact those despicable actions were only the beginning.

King Edmund looked up from studying the drawing. "You can confirm this is Mordad, Oreius?"

Cruel slash of a mouth, narrow face, hooded eyes, and a scar running from his right temple to divide his right eyebrow. He had only seen the man up close a few times in Veri, but they had been enough. He gave a curt nod. "It is Mordad, Your Majesty. When you come across one who embodies cruelty to such a degree, you do not forget them."

Both colts grew silent and he knew they were thinking of various enemies they had clashed with since coming to Narnia. Most especially, he suspected, they thought of the White Witch. It would be long before the memory of Her evil and cruelty was forgotten in Narnia.

The High King was the first to break the heavy silence. "What about your spies, Ed? What more information can they give us?"

King Edmund pointed to the map. "Haroun has retreated to Calormen. According to the Birds, he hasn't set foot outside the Tisroc's realm since fleeing Veri even though he's still bringing new girls to be part of the Tisroc's or one of his sons' harems. We can't stop him unless he comes to one of the northern lands or we catch him on one of the islands. Orfeo is a different story. He has been languishing in Lune's dungeons for the last six months after Archenlandish soldiers discovered him kidnapping young children for a house he claimed was for the most innocent of entertainment. Apparently, Lune still feels he is too angry to be fair enough for a trial to go through and is waiting until he feels the time is right."

Peter nodded. "That conclusively rules them out. I don't suppose they found any hideaways for Mordad yet?"

"No, but Mordad has not been seen in his old haunts for the better part of the year."

Oreius shifted his hooves. "The spies have been focusing on the land nearest our borders. I believe it is time to expand the search. Mordad must have men hidden somewhere in Ettinsmoor, not too near the Giant strongholds since the Northern Giants would rather eat them than be bought. If Mordad still has the other four assassins in his employ, they may know of his hideout."

His dark colt scowled at the map. "Achan was not a count on the Lone Islands even though he and his mother did originally hail from there. There were rumors that the Lady Jezreel and her elder sister caught the Tisroc's eye. The elder sister reportedly bore a son six years before Jezreel bore Achan. Lady Jezreel's father cast out his elder daughter for having a child out of wedlock and breaking her betrothal agreement to a Galmian baron."

The High King frowned. "What was the son's name?"

"Angra. No one knows what happened to him after his mother died of the plague just after Jezreel had her son. Though rumor claims it was a poison sent by her sister and not the plague that killed Angra's mother." King Edmund grimaced. "Jezreel was married but her husband had been gone a month when the Tisroc came to the Lone Islands again. There was strong speculation that the boy was his son but Jezreel took a potion to cause her to give birth a month before her time in order to ensure that her husband believed the boy was his. And then her husband perished by defenestration with a wine flagon in hand after declaring the boy's legitimacy as his heir to a minor barony. She probably killed her own nephew as well. However, when Achan was thirteen, he murdered a boy two years his junior and their lands and titles were stripped. Jezreel took her son and fled before the watch could imprison him."

"Wonderful," Peter muttered.

Oreius glared at the map. "We must continue to search for the other four men. Were they truly brothers and cousins to Achan?"

His dark colt merely shrugged. "One of the Robins heard a wild tale that Jezreel's elder sister bore a number of sons, no less than four, after she chose to sell her body upon being cast out of her father's house. There's no way to know. They're still looking for more recent news of the men's movements before coming here with Jezreel."

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Tanith measured out the tincture into a row of ten and six vials. The storm raining outside did not trouble her. Indeed, she was more than grateful for it. The whisper of silk and light steps revealed that someone had come to the healers' wing. Tanith was just about to push aside the privacy curtain draped in front of her workbench when she heard the Princess Royal call out, "Alithia?"

She could hear Alithia's slow and precise steps approach. "What is wrong?"

"What can you tell me about this amnesia? Why do I only remember bits and pieces about some people and then nothing at all with someone who I am supposed to be close friends with?"

Tanith felt a twinge of pity for the Princess Royal's bewilderment. Although she had never understood her well, she could only imagine how frustrating it must be for her to no longer be free to wander the Cair with familiarity and not even know her own history with the people she met on a daily basis. Alithia's heavy sigh should have been answer enough, but still she responded. "As I have explained before, there is no way to know. If your memory loss had been caused by an injury of some type, it would have been mended by the Valiant's cordial. That you continue to have battle shock and the sheer extent of your injuries lead me to believe that your amnesia is a defense. Your mind has protected itself and does not yet feel safe enough to unlock the bindings on your memories."

"The letters aren't helping."

"What?" Alithia sounded bewildered. Tanith wondered how it was that the Princess Royal always managed to find a way to do that in conversations, both intentionally and unintentionally.

"I can't remember the General. Nothing, not even the time I apparently led a group of Ogres through a weavers' guildhouse or putting dye in helmets. Other than the fact that I seem to have a death wish to go along with my delinquent tendencies, I have learned nothing from those letters."

Tanith paused in the middle of sealing the vials with their stoppers. How could any mare fortunate enough to be courted by General Oreius, to have his full attention even once, forget him? Alithia's reply was slow in coming. "You do not remember him at all?"

"No. Should I not remember someone who is supposed to be my friend?"

"I…I cannot explain it. Perhaps Aslan will be able to answer your questions."

"Unfortunately, He is content to give me riddles and non-answers about the rain bringing clarity. It's raining and the only clear memory I have is being abducted. I would have preferred something a little less dour. Perhaps I am not meant to remember all of my old life…" Her soft sigh was barely detectable. "I do not know what to do... I apologize for bothering you, Alithia."

"It is not a bother, Alambiel. You will still come to dinner with Ardon and me tonight, yes?"

"Yes, I will be there."

Tanith stared at the stoppered vials without truly seeing them. If the Princess Royal was not able to remember General Oreius and he had been avoiding her recently, perhaps it meant something important. Perhaps Oreius was not meant to wed a madcap mare, after all. Perhaps he was meant to wed another.

"Tanith?"

She startled, stamping a hoof before she could hide the reaction. "Alithia?"

Alithia's grey eyes studied her closely. "How much did you hear?"

"All of it," Tanith confessed. She swished her tail against her flank, trying not to feel guilty about the direction her thoughts had turned. He had already chosen another over her once. "I will tell no one of the Princess Royal's words. She spoke them thinking it was a private confidence and I will not dishonor that confidence."

"Thank you."

Alithia had half-turned to leave when Tanith's impulsive question burst free. "Why did he choose her?" At the older Centauress' raised brow, she flushed and hurriedly explained, "It never…made sense to me. She is impulsive and delights in bringing her own sanity under scrutiny, but she cannot be diplomatic or allow the General to do his tasks without interruption. I always thought he would need, want, someone who could stand to the side when his military obligations require it and offer him support by doing what was needed of her in order to ensure his own tasks are carried out smoothly. And yet, he chose the one mare whose sheer audacity nearly doubled that of any of the Centauresses who brazenly approached him for a match."

"Why do you think he chose her, Tanith?"

Tanith shrugged as she drew back the privacy curtain. "To be honest, I always thought his pity for her tragic past was a key motivator. And the fact she simply bursts into a room and people's lives is highly distracting at times. As noisy a presence as she keeps, how could he help but look at her instead of others?"

The sound of cloven hooves rushing toward the open doors prevented Alithia from responding. A Faun burst into the room, water dripping from his horns to his matted fur, and in his arms was a muddy child. "I need a healer."

Alithia never brought up the subject again. Even after they had set the young Faun's broken legs and arm and reassured his frantic father that the tumble down a mud embankment had caused no permanent damage, Alithia hadn't mentioned her rather prying questions again. Tanith was slightly grateful for it; after all, it was somewhat embarrassing that the General had never pursued her even with all the encouraging signs that first Christmas after the Four came. But, still she could not help thinking about how the Princess Royal had come in like a whirlwind and made it highly difficult for the General to safely look away from her loud personality. Perhaps, just perhaps, she might attract his attention once more now that the Princess Royal could not remember him and no longer loved him. Tanith could not help remembering how he had kissed her twice beneath the mistletoe and how they had spoken for hours. They had many things in common. Would they make a better match? She didn't know, but this time, she would not be quietly yearning for him to notice her heart.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! Ahem, well, Tanith and her crush are refusing to go quietly into the night. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one. **


	26. Chapter Twenty-Six: Mending

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Twenty-Six: Mending

13 Stormwfall 1008

Alambiel murmured quietly to the horse. Pepin nudged her hand then her arm and then he snuffled at her stomach and sides. She giggled as she twisted away. "What _are_ you looking for?"

"Apples."

She jumped and Pepin snorted. Spinning around, she met the impassive gaze of the General. She hadn't seen him since giving him the sketch of Mordad four days past, Alithia had volunteered the information that he had been off on a short patrol. "Pardon?"

General Oreius extended one hand, a bright red apple resting in his large palm. "You give Pepin slices of apples, especially when it has been some time since you last joined him for a ride."

Pepin whickered and something in the Centaur's dark eyes changed. His face didn't seem quite so stern and there was something…gentle in his eyes as he approached slowly. Alambiel caught her breath when the horse butted her shoulder with his nose. She had been staring again. She really needed to stop doing that, especially when he was looking right at her.

She ducked her head slightly as she took the apple (being careful not to brush her fingertips against his). She dropped her free hand to her side but nothing was hanging from her belt. The General cleared his throat as he handed her a small single-edged knife. Alambiel couldn't keep the shy smile from creeping across her lips as she cut off a slice and then fed it to Pepin. "I cannot decide whether I should be worried about how often I am reaching for a knife."

"It is a habit."

"So you are saying I should not be worried?" She dropped her gaze, noting the mud covering his legs and matting his tail. He must have just returned from his patrol. "Did it help?"

She could feel his gaze on her as Pepin lipped another apple slice from her palm. His voice rumbled in the confines of the stables as he moved a little closer. "Did what help, My Lady?"

"The drawing…of Mordad, did that help?"

General Oreius reached out and laid one broad hand on Pepin's neck. The gelding flicked an ear back but then he huffed and returned to nuzzling her palm until she gave him the next apple slice. "It did help. You needn't fear, My Lady; Cair Paravel's defenses have been shored up and Mordad will find it impossible to breach them."

"You shouldn't tempt Murphy," Alambiel countered. She paused, trying to chase down the memory of why tempting Murphy was bad. The now familiar pain flared in her head and she released her tenuous grasp of the memories.

A large hand wrapped around her shoulder, warm even through her cloak and dress. She looked up, meeting concerned dark eyes. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. The General frowned and his hand continued to clasp her shoulder. "You are certain?"

"I'm fine, truly. I just… I was lost in thought." She forced a tiny smile. Scrambling for a change of subject, she blurted out the first question that came to mind, "Are you engaged?"

General Oreius abruptly straightened and his hand fell away from her shoulder. Alambiel forced herself not to regret the loss of such a simple contact. Whatever gentleness she had glimpsed in his eyes before had vanished. Now, he studied her and she almost squirmed. She had messed up; she obviously should have known the answer without even asking it.

Tearing her eyes away from him, Alambiel focused on Pepin. He at least didn't think she was insane, currently being more concerned with lipping her sleeve until she gave him another slice of apple. The General finally broke the silence. "I- No, I am not betrothed." He cleared his throat then bowed slightly. "Forgive me, My Lady, but I must see to other business."

Alambiel watched him go. He had hesitated and his answer somehow felt incomplete. Had he hesitated because… No. No, she would not let the fact that his kindness drew her to him trick her into imagining something…something impossible. _"You are my heart, do not forget."_ Her memory of that voice from so many dreams did not sound like the General's. If she had already promised her heart to the owner of that voice- Pepin whinnied then nudged her shoulder. She fed him the last apple slice then found a cleaning cloth for the knife and tucked it into a loop dangling from her belt before finding a brush and currycomb for Pepin. She would return it to General Oreius later, after she had time to cease contemplating a ridiculous fancy.

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Mordad glared at the sorcerer. "Why care you where the other three went?"

The demon of a sorcerer's eyes flashed red from beneath his black hood. "Because I told you that you would need more subtle tools at your command than your half-brother and his friends. I did not tell you to allow them to leave after you killed Ammon in a fit of rage."

"I killed Ammon for his incompetence. The other three are contemplating the true meaning of pain." He snatched a torch free of its sconce then marched into the lower tunnels. Screams and moans of agony echoed up like a macabre chorus as Ammon's fellow mercenaries died from the slow poison of Mergu Tedraja. "I should have rid myself of my half-brother sooner but the harlot made me swear I would not harm him until he did something unforgivable."

"You killed your half-brother for the sake of the woman who murdered your mother? How interesting."

Mordad sneered over his shoulder. "Jezreel had no idea I was her nephew. She thought that beggar perished in the streets. I killed Ammon for being so incompetent that he couldn't even lure Ishara Reborn out of hiding and then allowed Jezreel to enact a suicide mission that led to Cair Paravel becoming impenetrable since we do not have the location of the tunnel."

The sorcerer's cold laugh filled his ears. "Do not be so sure. Even a badger may be provoked into rushing out of his burrow to confront a threat, real or imagined."

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Peter tilted his head then nudged Edmund. His brother's scowl greeted him as he turned. Peter nodded and placed a finger against his lips. Following his gaze, his brother's jaw dropped in a most satisfying manner. One of Edmund's Wolves was creeping up behind Bast, taking advantage of the rain and Babur's preoccupation with pointing something out to the other Wolf, most likely Romulus since Babur seemed to tolerate him better than his twin.

There was no way this could end well. Peter winced as the Wolf lunged forward to nip the end of the Bast's tail only to immediately have to dodge to the side as the Tigress whirled with a roar. The Wolf just missed being swatted by her. Edmund groaned, "Remus, you little bugger."

Peter chuckled in spite of himself. "He so desperately wants Bast to like him, doesn't he?"

"No, he just thinks it's inconceivable that a Tiger wouldn't find it as much fun and as difficult to chase him as he does when chasing a cat."

"Does he even know what inconceivable means?"

"No." Edmund glared at him from beneath his sopping hood. "This is all your fault."

A yelp cut through the storm. Romulus darted off shouting for his brother. Edmund sighed. Clearing his throat, Peter did his best not to grin. "Umm, don't you think you should fetch your Wolves now, brother mine?"

"I hate you," Edmund declared as ominously as he could with rain soaking his cloak and hood to give him a rather bedraggled and mud-splattered street urchin appearance. Then he stalked off, muttering to himself about poxes on Tigers and Wolves.

Peter chuckled as Babur rejoined him. "Not going to assist Bast?"

The Tiger bared his fangs in a grin. "Bast does not want assistance. If I were to go, I would be obliged to help those pups."

"And you don't want to be on the receiving end of your sister's wrath unless necessary."

"Indeed, Sire." The Tiger paused, testing the air as they approached the stables. "The Princess Royal is inside."

Peter nodded. "Right. Stay in the doorway, Babur. I need to speak to Kat alone." He passed Ptah, who was washing his face, as he led his horse further in. "Kat?" He thought he heard something. "Kat?"

He grabbed rags, brushes, and some carrots to give to Frost. The black mare nudged his shoulder (he probably shouldn't have allowed Lucy to name her, but his youngest sister had pleaded and he had caved) then whickered. Pepin stuck his head over the stall door and whinnied in reply. "Kat, I have been wanting to speak to you about…things."

At first, he thought she wasn't going answer (not that he didn't deserve it considering how beastly he had treated her). Then Kat's voice carried out of the dark depths of Pepin's stall. "That was rather vague, Your Majesty."

She almost sounded like herself. If only she would cease calling everyone by their titles, then she would sound exactly like herself. "Yes, it was. I wanted to apologize to you for-"

"Being a good brother? A good husband? A good King? Why would you trust a liability to the safety of your family?"

Peter blinked. "But, you are part of my family too. Caution does not dictate cutting out a piece of our hearts just because something might happen. I know better. I _knew_ better but I allowed fear to override it. I humbly ask your forgiveness for not treating you as you needed and deserved."

"Pretty words. Very well, I accept and do forgive you. Although, I _did_ understand your motivations." She exited the stall and arched an eyebrow at him. "Now what's this about you having puppies?"

He hoped Bast swatted Remus Greyback. The low, raspy laughs of the Big Cats filled the air. That's it, he was going to get Bast to swat her twin _and_ Ptah. "That was all Remus' imagination."

Kat giggled. "Like your abnormally short tongue?"

"Remus isn't allowed to talk to anyone anymore."

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! Hehehehe, Remus, Remus, Remus. If you want to enjoy the antics of my (slightly older but still lovable goofs)Wolves alongside a grand and nail-biting adventure for Peter and Edmund, do check out WillowDryad's story, _Wind's Harvest! _Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one. **


	27. Chapter Twenty-Seven: Comfort

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Comfort

_She opened her eyes and was back in the waking nightmare. How many days had she been gone? Was Lucy safe? Ptah? Were they looking for her? She knew they would but only once they knew they needed to look for her?_

_Mordad was careful, oh so careful, to make sure she never heard a specific date. He also only allowed her to sleep once since she had been taken. Her only true escape came whenever she passed out. She could wrap herself in comforting, loving words. But, it never lasted. _

_A torch flared, blinding her good eye. She automatically looked down. A rough hand grasped her chin and blunt fingernails dug into her skin as he yanked her chin up. Mordad's dark eyes bore into her. "Come now, my Princess, come now. I do not wish to hurt you anymore. I do not enjoy being forced to hurt such a beautiful treasure. Tell me what I want to know and I promise I will make my next touch truly enjoyable."_

_She'd rather die. She shook her head in wordless refusal. Mordad squeezed, his nails cutting into her skin. But then, he abruptly eased the pressure. His hand shifted from gripping her chin to stroking the unbloodied side of her face. How she hated his touch, his mockery. Mordad pet her hair then he pressed his lips against a single lock. Revulsion made her want to retch as he purposely attempted to defile pure memories. His whisper filled her ears like an unrelenting echo. "Do not fear, Princess. I shall ensure you enjoy it. And when I finish with you, your lover will die slowly as I explain to him every last thing I did to you. Unless…"_

_There was always an "Unless" in these interrogations. Mordad kept petting her hair and stroking her face, intentionally brushing against her wounds. It made her skin crawl. She had an overwhelming desire to pin his thumbs to a wall just so he would stop touching her as though he were- Mordad backhanded her. "Listen to me! Tell me where the tunnel is."_

_She spat out a mouthful of blood then ran her tongue over her teeth. It was a miracle he or his goons hadn't knocked any loose. "The tunnel is right behind you. Unless you want the side tunnel, which is rather inaccurately named, especially when you consider it runs that way at a more angular ascent without begin even close to your side. And then-"_

_She cut off, choking and gasping for breath, as Mordad hit her in the ribs, aggravating the three cracked ones. He sneered at her. "This is not the time for games, Ishara Reborn! Tell me where to find the entrance to the secret tunnel that is a royal escape route from Cair Paravel."_

_"__Ask me when the Sun is purple. I might consider telling you then."_

_Mordad glared at her. His fingers pressed into a cut. "Very well, let us see how witty you feel when I have finished with you." Without looking away from her, he snapped, "Gather the men! Ishara Reborn shall be taught humility and they are invited to watch." His dark eyes seemed to burn with an inner evil as he added, "A tempting sight you will make as I cut open your scars, my sweet. Tell me where the tunnel that the royal family used to flee Cair Paravel is located and I won't put you through it."_

_Aslan, give me strength. She spat in Mordad's face. "I will not betray my oaths or my family."_

Alambiel woke with a soft cry. Pain licked its way down her body. Every scar had been opened, every scar bled except for her hands. He crushed her hands.

"Alambiel, peace."

Shuddering cries turned to gasping breaths.

"Peace. Peace, dear one."

That Voice – warm, rich, and golden. It beckoned her just as before. Lightning lit the room as she stumbled from the bed. She needed to reach Him. Dropping to her knees, she sank her hands into His mane then rested her forehead against His warmth. "Why?"

"Because you are still Mine. Evil delights in attacking all who are Mine or might yet accept the invitation to be Mine. But I will give you peace."

"He wanted the location of the tunnel," Alambiel murmured as she twisted her fingers in His mane. "I can remember the tunnel. I remember Leith had to come back and carry me because I couldn't keep up. I remember that part. I didn't tell Mordad. I never told him."

"I know. You did well, My tenacious daughter." Aslan breathed on her and she felt her frantic thoughts settle. He breathed on her and she felt peace wrap itself around her, comforting and secure. The remembered pain faded as her mind recalled that her body was healed of the wounds rendered by whip and blade. Sleep beckoned but she feared the dreams, the memories. "Sleep, Alambiel, you will dream of naught save good things. Sleep and be at peace for I am with you always."

With such perfect comfort as Aslan, Alambiel ceased to fight her body's need for sleep. She dreamed of a family long gone. Of her father and her brothers. She dreamed and she was at peace.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! A bit of a breather before we get into more twists and turns in the next chapter. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one.**


	28. Chapter Twenty-Eight: Crossroads

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Crossroads

14 Stormfall 1008

Alambiel frowned at the letters. This last set was dated the thirty-third of Quickening 1006.

_Oreius_

_I have a brilliant idea for what you can do for the New Year festival tomorrow! Now ask me my plan._

_Alambiel_

_ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ_

_Alambiel_

_What mischief are you plotting now?_

_Oreius_

_ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ_

_Oreius_

_I'm not actually plotting mischief. However, I shall accept your unimaginative question as an enthusiastic request for me to share my brilliance with you. You should get into the festive spirit and I shall help you!_

_Alambiel_

_ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ_

_Alambiel_

_I hesitate to ask but how exactly do you plan to help me? This had better not involve dyes._

_Oreius_

_ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ_

_Oreius_

_Don't be ridiculous. I want to braid your hair. _

_Alambiel_

_ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ_

_Alambiel_

_You desire to…braid my hair. Why?_

_Oreius_

_ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ_

_Oreius_

_Because I was thinking it would be a nice change of pace if I braided your hair Dwarf-style. It would be formal and stately, I promise. With beads and some silver bands and some more of those rings. The small ones, of course. Oh and one fluffy pink bow. _

_What do you say?_

_Alambiel_

_ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ_

_Alambiel _

_You are jesting._

_Oreius_

_ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ_

_Oreius_

_You caught me. I am jesting about the pink bow._

_Alambiel_

_ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ_

_Alambiel_

_You are not jesting about the rest?_

_Oreius_

_ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ_

_No. This is a serious suggestion._

_ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ_

_Alambiel_

_I prefer wearing my hair the way I always have…and definitely not in Dwarf-style._

_Oreius_

_ӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁӁ_

_Spoilsport._

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There were no more letters after this set. It had been about eighteen months since they were written but why were there no more letters? After over five years of letters ranging from serious to absurd (admittedly the absurd ones far outnumbered the serious letters), why did the letters abruptly stop? Had they had a falling out? Did they cease to be close friends or did they become…

Alambiel didn't let herself finish the thought. She did acknowledge, though, that something must be missing from the collection of letters. This felt…unfinished. She worried at her bottom lip, wondering if she dared. No, she had to know.

She put the letters away then brushed at the wrinkles in her dress. She hesitated at the doors then forced herself to leave her quarters. Alambiel knew she needed the truth. And the only way to get the truth was to ask General Oreius about the missing letters.

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She could do this. She would be brave this time and speak before it was too late. It had taken some doing, but she had finally found him in one of the smaller libraries. "General Oreius?"

He turned then set a book down on the small table to his left and bowed slightly. "Tanith. Did you require something?"

Tanith flicked her tail, half-wondering if this was a mistake. But, she had to try. "I had hoped you might spare a moment of your time."

The General nodded as he folded his brawny arms over his chest. "Of course."

"I- It must be difficult for you since the Princess Royal has not regained her memory," she hesitated again as she watched his dark eyes harden. "Forgive me, I should not have mentioned it."

"No. No, it is only natural, I suppose, for you to do so. It seems to have been on the minds of everyone in the Cair lately."

Tanith touched his arm, resting her fingers lightly on the crook of his elbow. "It is not our business. However, it is difficult to know how to treat the situation. Our people, we know how to treat widows and widowers but you did not wed the Princess Royal and you were not yet betrothed. It is incredibly rare for a widowed Centaur to remarry. But…" She hesitated then looked up into the General's dark eyes and allowed her own heart to show. "I wanted to tell you that there others who care _deeply_ for you. What you do with that information is, of course, entirely your choice." Then, before she could change her mind, Tanith reached up to lay her free hand against his left cheek then kissed him on the right cheek.

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Alambiel stopped in her tracks as a chill ran down her spine. She had finally found the General who was being kissed by a very pretty Centauress. Tanith, yes, that was her name, one of the healers. Tanith drew back and General Oreius watched her. Alambiel swallowed hard as the humiliating realization hit her. The reason he had hesitated in answering her idiotic question about engagement (what had possessed her to ask him that anyway, she still didn't know) was that he was married.

She backed away on silent feet then fled down the hall. What a fool she was to think there might be any possible answer that could have led somewhere…somewhere she could not even allow herself to finish that thought. Although, perhaps she should thank the General for not embarrassing her right away with the fact she had forgotten his wife. Alambiel flushed guiltily when she thought about how drawn to him she had become. Well, she would put a stop to it before it had the chance to grow into feelings that were more permanent. She wouldn't be heartbroken because she was foolish enough to be drawn to someone's kindness. He was married and she was going to distance herself until she had full control of her unpredictable heart.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! *runs away quickly* **


	29. Chapter Twenty-Nine: Separating

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Separating

Oreius stared after Tanith as the Centauress drew back. No, he was not widowed. But, still, she should know better than to act so forwardly. He had once thought she was a most levelheaded filly, certainly demure but now…

He glanced at the library door. He had thought he had heard something but no one was there. For that, he was very grateful as he would hate to have Cair Paravel gossiping about things they knew nothing about and making assumptions. He turned back to Tanith. "Explain yourself."

The mare blushed but still met his eyes steadily. "Because I stood by, waiting and hoping, until it was too late the last time. I… This time is an opportunity I did not expect or look for and I promised myself that I would not simply stand by and hope to be noticed. If you know, then it is not quite so foolish for me to wait and hope for your decision." Her hand was still resting on the crook of his elbow.

Aslan's words about Tanith pushed their way to the fore of his thoughts. Tanith's warm brown eyes stared up at him and there was hope in them. She gave him a tentative smile. "I believe I have imposed on your time long enough, General." Oreius said nothing as he watched her leave the library.

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16 Stormfall 1008

Peter crept up behind his wife then wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against him, and kissed her silky hair. He didn't care about how Sekhmet and his Tigers were watching. "What are you looking at, Flower?"

"General Oreius attempted to speak to Alambiel. I do not think it went well. She left rather quickly."

He glanced out the window. Oreius was in the courtyard but Kat was nowhere in sight. The Centaur abruptly turned and headed toward the training yard. Peter couldn't help but wonder how many of the training dummies would be immolated by Oreius this time.

Thalia looked up at him. "Is there nothing we can do?"

"We can hardly tie Kat up and put her in a room so Oreius can talk to her. I just told Lucy and Susan they couldn't do that yesterday." Pleased he had coaxed a small smile to his wife's lips, Peter gently turned her to face him. Her arms came up around him and her hands pressed flat against his back. Peter tilted her chin up so he could look her in the eyes. "Kat needs time, Flower. And she and Oreius did spend a little bit of time together last Sixthday just after the patrol returned. It's possible something made her feel uncertain about Oreius. He does tend to intimidate people who are unused to him and Kat's…no longer used to him."

She sighed. "I know but your sisters have told me that the Princess Royal never behaved as though he intimidated her even from their first meeting. It must be very difficult for him to watch her react in such a way."

Peter kissed her. "You've a very gentle heart, Thalia. But we can only be patient and respect Oreius' decision not to inform Kat of their courtship. He won her once and Kat turned down or chased away more suitors than even Susan. There's no reason to suspect he won't win her again."

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23 Stormfall 1008

Susan scratched out a name then consulted her original list. It was most difficult to organize her list of things that must be done for Yule when her mind kept wandering to how Kat had avoided Oreius twice yesterday. She sighed as she misspelled 'holly boughs' of all things. Susan shook her head then set aside her quill and stoppered the inkwell. There was simply no help for it.

Walking down the corridor, her steps slowed when she heard Edmund snapping, "Because you have to, that's why. And do _not_ give Vahan any trouble this time." Boots stomped across the floor and then Edmund's study door flung open. Her brother's arm thrust into the hall, all but one finger curled into a fist as he pointed. "Go on, Romulus. You know if you're late, the General will just make you have a double session." A Wolf slunk past him, looking rather dejected. Susan raised a hand to hide a smile as Edmund's stance and tone softened as he dropped his hand to touch the Wolf's grey head. "Don't worry, Romulus. Remus and I only have to run down to the docks for an hour and we should be back in the Cair before you finish your lesson with Vahan. And remember it's an honor to train with the Windwolf pack."

The Wolf brightened and wagged his tail. "I'll make you proud, King Edmund. Don't let Remus get stuck, though, because then you'll have to dig the silly pup out."

An indignant shout came from the study, "I'm not a pup! You're the pup!"

"Remus, hush." Edmund shook his head then nodded to Romulus. "Go on then. Stay out of trouble. And no running inside!" he added as the Wolf bounded down the corridor, tail wagging.

Susan giggled. "Why isn't Remus going to?"

The Wolf in question stuck his grey head between Edmund's legs and gave her a big doggy grin with his pink tongue lolling out. "Because Alpha rolls in the mud, but then he growls about it and Mrs. Bridgewater gets mad too. She dives at us!"

She couldn't help another laugh at the thought of just how intimidating the Osprey housekeeper must be to the Greyback twins in particular (they were quite infamous for littering Edmund's quarters with frogs whenever they thought he was sick). Remus ducked back into the room when Edmund growled at him. Susan laid a slender hand on her brother's shoulder then straightened his tunic so it didn't look quite so rumpled. "What have you found, Ed?"

Edmund sighed, enduring her adjustments. "You're worse than Martil." He led her into his study, shutting the door behind them, and guided her to a chair. "My spies are still searching for Mordad."

"What about the assassins? Were you able to confirm the men claiming to be Achan's cousins left Narnia?"

"They've disappeared, Su." Edmund gestured at a map covered with pins. "I can't find Mordad or the assassins. The only people I can find are the Giants and that's because they're busy bashing boulders against each other!"

Susan patted his hand. "It will work out. Your spies will find something."

Remus rested his chin on Edmund's knee, yellow eyes full of adoration. "King Edmund always finds something when he hunts!"

It was rather adorable how much the Wolf pups looked up to her brother. Susan smiled. "And what are you hunting at the docks?"

"Oh just inspecting a new shipment from Terebinthia. And seeing if there's any news that might prove helpful to us." Edmund rose from his chair. "We better get going, though. Su? Don't worry about the assassins or Mordad. They won't have another go at you and Lu. I promise."

The promise in his dark eyes was as sincere as ever and she pitied the ones foolish enough to cross her family, especially Edmund. Susan rose as well, smoothing her skirts, and then she rested her hand on Edmund's arm once more and kissed his cheek. "I know, Ed. Besides, we're ready for them now." As her brother strode off with Remus happily trotting by his side, she called out once more, "Try not to roll in the mud this time!"

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_She sat on the lip of the fountain, waiting for someone to come get her. Tuulea said she had to be careful today not to get into a mess. She sighed as she propped her chin on her hands. "Cadfael, when are my brothers going to be back?"_

_The large Centaur emerged from where he had been standing partially concealed in the shadows of a large oak. "They should return any day now, Your Highness. As will your sire."_

_She missed her brothers and Da. Leith was the only one who stayed home this time and he was so busy, she never got to see him. Tuulea and Stonebrook said she had to be patient because that's what was required of the royal family. She hoped that one day she could help Da and her brothers with the royal duties. The last time she had asked to help, Da told her she was still too young. But, today was her birthday. Maybe Da would let her help now that she was eight. _

_A light touch to the top of her head made her look up. Cadfael smiled gently then nodded to the garden entrance. She sprang up. "Da!" _

_"__There's my little star!" Da swept her into a tight hug and kissed her cheeks, his beard scratching and tickling. He shifted her so she was sitting in the crook of his arm even if she was almost too big now. "Have you behaved yourself while I was gone, Alambiel?"_

_Giggling, she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Yes, Da. Well…"_

_Da's eyebrows rose. "Well?"_

_"__Yesterday Melissa said I was behaving contemptibly. All I did was tell Gavyn he didn't have Truffle's saddle straps right. Gavyn didn't mind. We didn't want the straps to chafe Truffle. I wasn't behaving contemptibly, Da. I was behaving helpfully. I know because I asked Stonebrook what contemptible meant." _

_"__I see." Da looked at Cadfael. "Did your family make it back safe?"_

_Cadfael nodded. "They did, Your Majesty. My sire sent word of their arrival a fortnight ago." _

_"__Good. Now," his gaze focused on her again as he added in a thoughtful tone, "I believe that there is a celebration that we simply cannot miss for you, my dear little star, are the guest of honor."_

_"__With everyone?"_

_"__With everyone." _

_Da set her down and then they raced through the garden. She only slowed when they reached the garden that Grandda said was her mama's favorite (and then she decided it would be her favorite too). All her brothers were there as well as her four sisters-in-law and her nephews (she usually called them cousins). Grandda was also there with Uncle Pholus and Tuulea and Stonebrook were there too. She didn't care about the gifts. Instead, she immediately threw herself into the arms of each brother (even Leith because it had been forever since she last saw him without a pinched mouth) and Grandda and Uncle Pholus. Uncle Petraeus and Aunt Briarwind must not have been able to come because their foals were still too little. _

_After hugs and kisses had been doled out, Tuulea said she had to pay attention to the gifts. The only ones that truly impressed her were the gifts from Uncle Pholus and Da. Da presented her with a drawing kit and Uncle Pholus gave her a small intricately etched dagger that he promised he would start showing her how to use very soon. The Centaur just shrugged when Melissa protested how dangerous it was and commented that since she didn't hardly hit herself with the wooden practice sword anymore, it was more than time enough for her to move on to a real blade under supervision. She reminded herself to give Melissa the biggest slice of chocolate cake to cheer her up. _

_They had finished everything except the cake when Grandda cleared his throat. "There is one more gift for you, little star." She thought there was the faintest sheen of emotion in Grandda's eyes as he set a square leather case in front of her. She opened it and froze. The necklace was a silver pendant. The biggest piece looped and crisscrossed in a sort of figure eight (the bottom loop was much larger than the top) then transitioned into a trinity knot with an upside-down small three-leaf crown on the bottom. Grandda cleared his throat again as his large dark fingers picked up the delicate necklace. "This was your dam's from the time she was about your age, Alambiel. I have kept it until the time was right to give it to you." He fastened the necklace around her neck then kissed the top of her head. "She would be very proud of you, little star."_

_She reached up to clasp the pendant. Something of Mama's. She wouldn't ever take it off…_

_She reached up to touch the silver and amethyst pendant. She was more than pleased he had chosen this one. _

_"__Where are your thoughts?"_

_"__I was just thinking about something…pleasant." She smiled when he wrapped his arms around her and tugged her back to lean against him. She could feel his warmth radiating through his tunic. "Part of the reason I keep going back to my Grandda's house is I have the silly hope that somehow I'll find my mother's necklace. He gave it to me and then I lost it when I left Narnia."_

_"__I will help you look for it next time." She closed her eyes as he pressed a kiss against her cheek. Then she turned in his arms. Calloused fingers lightly skimmed her jaw and chin. She didn't open her eyes as warm breath not her own tickled her lips. "You are my heart, do not forget." _

_Her own voice echoed in her ears, a contented whisper. "Never, I promise." She opened her eyes, needing to see him. _

Alambiel opened her eyes, wondering what had woken her. The scent of rich coffee filled her nostrils and she heard the light tread she had come to associate with Leeta. Sitting up, she pulled on a thick robe then went to her jewelry box. The necklace she had dreamed of, her mother's necklace was not in there, nor was there any sign of a silver and amethyst pendant. Her inability to see the face of the owner of that voice was niggling at her. Was it possible that her mind had simply dreamed it all up? A… Perhaps another type of coping mechanism?

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28 Stormwind 1008

The sky was grey and the clouds pregnant with rain but it hadn't fallen yet. Lucy was glad for a relatively dry day even if the sun was hiding his face. She skipped across the courtyard, smiling when some of the Tiger cubs and a Fawn gamboled after her until their parents called for them. She had just drawn even with one of the smaller training yards when she heard them.

"My Lady?" Oreius sounded as steady as he ever did but she could not help but think he was being cautious.

Kat's voice was carefully moderated, almost as impassive as Oreius, which was not normal for her at all. Not when she was with friends, anyway. "Is training not over, General?"

"It is. However, I wondered if you might care to join me in the library. There is a chessboard we might use."

Lucy clapped her hands over her mouth to keep from shouting for Kat to accept. Kat's voice sounded slightly strained this time. "I- I am afraid that I have already made plans. I can't accept. Please excuse me, General. I don't want to be late."

Squeezing her eyes shut, Lucy bit her lip to keep from exclaiming in dismay. She shook her head and opened her eyes in time to see Oreius watching Kat hurry toward the stables. Anyone who didn't know him well would think his features were set in a solely impassive mask, but she caught a glimpse of something beneath the impassiveness. It looked a lot like resignation. _No, don't give up on her, Oreius. You just have to make her see the things that won her heart in the first place. Please don't give up._

She had to do something. Asking Kat why she was avoiding Oreius wasn't the same as telling or hinting to her that she and Oreius had been courting. If she could just figure out why Kat was acting this way, she could tell Oreius and he'll be able to coax Kat out of her shell.

Lucy hurried after Kat. Entering the stable, she found her brushing Pepin's coat. "Kat, may I ask you a question?"

"You just did, but you may ask another."

"Why have you been avoiding Oreius? Has something happened? Did he say something? Do something?"

The brush slowed for a moment then steadied as Kat kept tending to Pepin, not even looking at her. "No."

"Then what's wrong?"

Kat shook her head, still not turning around. "I just… Things are not clear and I am doing my best to act within the proper bounds. It's a little too confusing right now. I just need more time to figure things out."

"Oh, Kat…" Lucy couldn't think of anything to say that would help her. She wasn't even sure if she could repeat this answer to Oreius. It seemed too private. Instead, she grabbed a currycomb and helped with grooming Pepin. If she couldn't help mend Oreius and Kat's relationship the way she had hoped, she could at least stay out here and help Kat to remember that she's not alone.

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Oreius showed no mercy to the training dummies. He did not care how many of them splintered and cracked beneath the strikes of his claymore. _Alambiel… Oh, Alambiel._

He sliced the head off a dummy then split the torso before swinging at the next dummy. He had thought, no, had hoped that if he had approached her carefully, it would make a difference. She had almost relaxed around him once but since then she had been drawing back. She was wary and continually shied away from him.

What had he done? He did not know. But, considering how often his interaction with her caused her to have horrible flashbacks and nightmares, it could have been anything. He had put off severing the last tie to his Alambiel, calling her his lady instead of formally addressing her. Another dummy cracked beneath his strike. He had been delaying the inevitable, attempting to hold together a severed string of hope simply with his own heart. It was not enough. He knew it, but he had not wanted to take the final step necessary for letting her go.

It was unfair to Alambiel. He could not keep trying to hold her back and confuse her at the same time he made her wary with his attempts to spend just a little time in her company. He had to sever the last tie and he had to cease trying to interact with her outside of necessity. He was panting and it had begun to drizzle when he finally stopped. All of the training dummies had been beheaded and the majority of them had fallen to the ground. Oreius set the tip of his claymore against the ground and bowed his head. He would no longer address Alambiel as his lady and he would no longer seek her out. He would not force his presence on her and exacerbate her wariness of him. He would let her go completely.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! Well...the good news is she had a pleasant dream for once, right? Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one.**


	30. Chapter Thirty: Tanith

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Thirty: Tanith

28 Stormwind 1008

"Oreius."

Still damp from the drizzling rain and cleaning up after expending his energy demolishing the training dummies, Oreius bowed to the Great Lion. "Aslan, how may I serve?"

Aslan gave a purring chuckle then tilted His golden head slightly. "Perhaps, Oreius, it is you who needs Me. Come and walk with Me for we still have not finished our last conversation."

Oreius bowed once more then dutifully fell into step beside the Lion. His mind was already racing with their last conversation and Aslan's words concerning another, concerning Tanith. Tanith. That mare was causing him great difficulty.

"Your thoughts are on Tanith."

He started slightly, feeling guilty that he was thinking of someone other than Alambiel. His heart was now in as much turmoil as his mind. "Yes. I do not know what to do."

"You once sought to deny you considered her."

Oreius stamped an iron-shod hoof, uncaring of how the sound echoed through the deserted corridor, and flicked his tail. This was…it was very difficult. Yet, he still forced himself to answer. "I did. At the time, when I first met Tanith, I was not interested in seeking out a mate or courtship. My efforts and attentions were focused on my duties as general, training my colts and overseeing the guard for the Four, and ensuring Narnia was secure from the remnants of the Witch's army."

"And now?" Aslan's prompt came without judgment but still Oreius shivered.

His mind and heart warred with each other. Alambiel was still foremost in his heart, but he knew she was no longer his. "Tanith was and is comfortable to be around. She is sensible and well suited to being a healer with the army. She is quiet-" He cleared his throat as he recalled Tanith's words about how she had been too quiet, waiting for him to notice her. "I found Tanith refreshing the few times I spent in her company, primarily at the Christmas ball. She did not flirt overmuch and was not flighty nor given to bold impertinence and she never pushed me outside my bounds. She is comfortable."

He wrestled with his heart's guilty pang that he shouldn't be comparing another to Alambiel and that he was betraying her (for that is what he felt he was doing) in silence for several minutes. Oreius ran a hand over his face. He did not want to say the words, but he knew they must be said. "If I had not met Alambiel, if I had not fallen in love with her… I probably would have noticed Tanith and built a very comfortable life with her."

Oreius stared out a window, watching the rain gain strength and intensity. He had been surprised a fortnight ago by Tanith's declaration and invitation. After he had first realized Alambiel had stolen his heart without either of them noticing, he had shuttered his heart against all others who might have caught his eye otherwise. He knew he would likely have a comfortable life with Tanith but to do so, to even consider pursuing her invitation, he would have to find a way to take back his heart. He would have to give himself permission to feel for another what he felt for Alambiel. And he did not know if he could do that, if he could permit himself to have feelings for someone other than his Alambiel.

He closed his eyes as his heart rebelled mightily and clashed with what his mind knew was required of him. His very limbs trembled at the thought of abandoning his Alambiel. _But, she is not your Alambiel anymore, is she?_ The thought taunted him. He clenched his fists and forced his eyes open. His voice sounded ragged to his own ears as he turned to Aslan. "I need to let Alambiel go. I feel it is best for her. And, I feel I must also look elsewhere. But, I must know, My Lord Aslan, what is it You want me to do? What choice should I make?"

Golden eyes rose and held his gaze so he could not turn away even if he had wanted to as Aslan rumbled, "The writing of your story depends on you and your decisions, Oreius. However, this promise I give you to serve as comfort through this trial and others you will experience. Oreius, son of Cadfael, son of Caderyn, and descendent of Chiron the first Centaur I named, you will have many children, sons and daughters both, and the line of Chiron and of Oreius will last unbroken through the ages until Narnia herself comes to an end."

Oreius swallowed hard. The promise of children was bittersweet in that moment. He flicked his tail then forced the question most prominent among his thoughts past his lips. "And the mother of my children?"

"The identity of their mother is part of the next chapter in your life, My son. You must turn the page to discover her."

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33 Stormwind 1008

"General Oreius?"

Setting down the latest report from the border, Oreius pinched the bridge of his nose. There was still no sign of Mordad but the bodies of Ammon and the other three men claiming to be Achan's cousins had been discovered on a Terebinthian beach a week ago. The assassins were dead but they had no lead on who killed them (he suspected Mordad) and where they were originally killed.

A soft voice cut through his frustrating thoughts. "Is this a bad time? I can come back later."

"No." He shook his head then met Tanith's questioning gaze and waved an invitation. "Please come in. I could use a distraction from this paperwork."

Out of habit, Oreius waited for a question as to what it was he was looking at that was so irritating. The question never came. Because it was not Alambiel but Tanith in his study now. The Centauress did not speak until he looked at her. "If you are certain that I am not interrupting. I wanted to ask if you have given any thought to…to our last conversation."

He could not deny that her blush added to her comeliness. He cleared his throat. "Yes, I have."

Tanith was comfortable to be around. He knew with certainty that if he chose to accept her invitation, to pursue her, he would have very little conflict. Tanith had always respected his responsibilities as General and understood why he had to be stern and serious. She would never… She would never insist he take a holiday from his duties simply because (though she would if he were injured) and she would never pester him about his paperwork. No, she would likely wait and see if he was going to bring it up and if he did, she would listen, and if he did not, she would leave him be. She would not play pranks or cause a disaster in his armory or…or hide his armor so he'd have to chase her all over the Cair in order to find out where she hid it. He had been promised children and he tried to envision the foals he and Tanith would have if he conceded but he could only envision Centaur colts and Nymph fillies, all with blue eyes that darkened or lightened depending on their moods. He summoned to mind Tanith's black hair and warm brown eyes but they quickly melted away into blue eyes with a mischievous glint and thick golden hair with two white streaks. A lilting voice that taunted, teased, scolded, and laughed but would also offer wise counsel. The warm scent of cinnamon clinging to golden locks. Chaste kisses that still stole his very breath away.

"General Oreius?"

Oreius blinked Tanith's face into focus. Warm brown eyes looked up at him. He wanted to see blue eyes. Tanith's fingers lightly touched the back of his hand. "General Oreius? Are…are you all right?"

"Yes," he stated. He cleared his throat then gently covered Tanith's fingers with his other hand. "I- Tanith, any stallion would be most fortunate to have you by his side. However, you deserve to be loved wholeheartedly by your husband. While it is possible I could grow to care deeply for you, I have already felt what it is like to be loved and it would be most cruel of me to give you false hope and to tie our lives together when I could not love you as I should." He did not add that he could not settle for something less than what he had with Alambiel.

Tanith's eyes were wide as she pulled her fingers free. "I do not know what to say. Pray forgive me my forwardness in approaching you, General. I should never have mentioned anything about a foolish attraction."

"Tanith-"

She was already leaving. The mare paused in the doorway, tail flicking, and then she looked over her shoulder at him. "If you had not- If Alambiel had not claimed your attention and heart, do you think there might have been a chance for us?"

"Perhaps. I am sorry I hurt you, Tanith. You deserve more."

Tanith shook her head, a sad smile on her trembling lips. "You did not hurt me, General. No more than I allowed. Thank you for not giving me false hope."

After she left, Oreius put aside the paperwork and unlocked the drawer in his desk. He pulled out the drawing of Alambiel and his heart gave a painful twist. No, he couldn't settle for Tanith but Alambiel was no longer his and he still would have to allow himself to find another. His fingers traced over her face and then he put the framed drawing back in the drawer and locked it. He would need more time for his heart to heal of the wound where Alambiel had occupied it. One day, though, in a few decades, he would give serious thought to finding another. A painful vise squeezed around his heart at such contemplation but it had to be that way.

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1 Yule 1008

Lucy sighed as she twisted her fingers in Aslan's mane as they walked along the beach. "I wish You could stay longer. Through Christmas!"

Aslan's chuckle rolled over her and tugged free an answering giggle. "My presence is required elsewhere for now, dear heart."

"But what about Kat and Oreius?" Lucy dared to question as she pet His mane. "I thought, I had hoped You would stay until their relationship was mended."

"I have stayed as long as I may, dear heart, and I have helped them both in the necessary mending. Their stories now rest on their decisions." Aslan slowed His steps and then turned to her. He gave her a Lion's kiss. "Do not fret, Lucy. Remember, even when you cannot see Me, I am still with you and I hear every prayer. The answers to those prayers may not always be what you hope or want but I will answer."

A gull cried above and Lucy looked up at the bird bobbing in the wind. She looked back down to ask Aslan which answers were going to turn out differently. The Lion was gone. His paw prints remained in the golden sand next to her. She looked up again and whispered, "I hope You visit us again soon."

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! **


	31. Chapter Thirty-One: Dreams

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Thirty-One: Dreams

_Every breath was coated in fire. Her ribs were cracked and she thought some of them might be broken. Her hands… She held back tears at the pain enveloping her crushed hands. She would never be able to paint again, never be able to hold a knife or throw it with accuracy. She pushed the sorrow down and focused on the here and now. She had almost gotten out the last time; she had made it far enough to see the light of day illuminating the cavern's mouth. Somehow, somehow she had to escape again. And this time she would not be dragged back. She would escape or die trying._

_They hadn't bothered to tie her up again. Instead, Mordad had left her lying on the cave floor, staining the stones with her blood. He probably thought it was funny. The psychopath. He was almost as bad as the Monster. At least Mordad hadn't thought to bring eels into it. Oh, she hoped Murphy didn't pick that thought to use for his thrice-cursed law. _

_She could hear coarse laughter and lewd shouts from the far tunnel combining with the screams and pleading from the poor girl Mordad's men had kidnapped for their…entertainment. At least, she finally knew Mordad was the robber baron behind the attacks a few months ago. Boots scraped against stone from a different tunnel, coming closer. She closed her good eye as they came inside the smaller cave. Mordad and another of his goons, the former pretty boy if she'd guessed right. He had a distinctive hitch in his gait._

_Mordad's voice echoed slightly, "No, you fool, we shall set up a pretty ambush for the Kings. Once you lead the men in an attack on the westernmost Marsh-Wiggle village, I will be waiting for the Kings to come investigate the site and we'll catch them in our trap."_

_"__When will the attack occur, my lord?"_

_The sneer in Mordad's voice was contemptibly obvious. "The seventh of Yule. Even the Narnian demons' patrols are more lax as they prepare for merriment and the Kings will be eager to return home. They won't see anything is amiss until it is too late."_

Alambiel leapt off the bed, nearly stumbling in her haste to reach the door. Ptah's yellow gaze met hers. She gasped, "Where are the Kings?"

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2 Yule 1008

Edmund nursed a cup of coffee as he blearily watched Peter and Oreius looking over a map. Kat had woken them all at third hour and then proceeded to tell them about Mordad's plot to slaughter a Marsh-Wiggle village. All that death just to ensnare him and Peter. His brother tapped the marked village. "We can't allow Mordad to kill innocents. We need to stop him before he can send his men."

"You're sure he identified the westernmost village, Kat?" Edmund waited until she nodded then pointed to a marshy plain a few miles north and west of the village. "We can catch them here. If they cross the Shribble where our patrol found Kat, then we should be able to pin them in the marsh."

Peter was nodding but Oreius merely continued to focus on the map. The Centaur General shifted his hooves. "An attack on the seventh does not guarantee we can arrive in time to prevent the ambush if we do not leave until tomorrow."

Edmund took another drink of coffee, already knowing where this conversation was going and wishing it wasn't going in that direction. "We can arrive early on the fourth if we leave by noon today and take a third of the army."

"Our swiftest third," Peter added. "Since Mordad was our phantom robber baron, we know he's lost a number of his men between the robber town being burned down and our last battle with his forces." He glanced at him and Edmund nodded his silent agreement. He'd have to leave his Wolves here at the Cair but they could pester the girls. Peter turned to Oreius. "Assemble the troops, General. We leave by ninth hour."

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Thalia willed her hands not to tremble as she tightened the straps on Peter's vambraces. She knew he would go to war whenever there was a threat that could not be dispersed through negotiation or treaty. But the thought of him going directly after the man who had already tried to assassinate three members of the Royal family sent a chill to her very roots. Peter cupped his hands around hers then lifted them so he could press a kiss to the ends of the fingers. "Don't worry, Thalia. I'll be back well before Yule and then," he tugged her closer with a roguish grin, "I shall be your mistletoe king again."

She laughed softly even though she could not shake the feeling of dread. At least there would be no Giants involved. "I shall have to ask the Raccoons for their assistance in giving you a proper mistletoe crown then." She swallowed back tears before clinging to him, balling his red tabard in her fists. She didn't plead for him to stay or to forsake his duty to his people. He would never be able to turn away from those in need and that was why he was High King.

He tipped her chin up, blue eyes studying hers with compassion. "Thalia."

"I know, Peter." Rising on her toes, Thalia pressed her mouth against his, kissing him with as much passion as she could muster. When she stepped back, they were both panting and Peter's fingers were still caught in her hair. "Come home swiftly."

"I will, Flower." He traced her jaw with one gloved finger. "And know your kiss will keep me warmer than even my finest wool cloak."

She blushed then hugged him once more. Peter's breath tickled her neck and his strong arms clasped her close. Their embrace ended too soon and then she helped him buckle Rhindon around his lean hips. Thalia allowed him to settle her own cape around her shoulders before she placed her hand on his arm and they walked together to Cair Paravel's doors. Peter smiled at her and stole one last kiss, whispering "I love you, Flower" as he pulled her hood up.

The Queens and King Edmund were waiting for them. Edmund accepted her hug then whispered, "I'll bring him home, Thalia." She gave him a tremulous smile while Peter accepted his sisters' hugs, kisses, and admonishments to look after himself and his brother. And then Thalia could only stand beside Susan and Lucy as her husband rode out at the head of the troops with Edmund and the General on either side of him into the drizzle that was strengthening by the moment. _Aslan, protect them and bring them home safe._

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_She must have passed out again. But now the pain clamped down on her and refused to let go. Someone kicked her in the stomach. She forced herself not to react, not to open her eyes. _

_"__The witch dead?"_

_"__Don't be a fool," Mordad hissed. "The demon witch still draws breath. She is not going to die until she gives me the information I want."_

_"__What's so special about a tunnel?"_

_"__The tunnel that the Royals used to escape Jadis is unmarked and the Narnians have forgotten it. The best way to conquer Narnia is to take Cair Paravel. And we will take Cair Paravel from within."_

_"__What of the army?"_

_Mordad's voice burned her ears. "Once the Queens have been assassinated by Achan, Ammon and Jezreel will visit during the mourning period and plant the letters indicating that Achan is hiding in the Northern Marshes and plans to burn down a Marsh-Wiggle village on the seventh of Yule. The Kings will be filled with a thirst for vengeance and they will ride straight into the trap. The army will be directed toward hunting the assassins and we will be waiting to cut them down as they return to Cair Paravel. Those we don't slaughter in the marshes, of course."_

_They were going to kill them all. She forced herself to wait until Mordad and his goon tromped out of the cave, disappearing into one of the tunnels. She had to get out, had to warn them. A Presence enveloped her, covering her in His warmth and His strength. "Run."_

_She couldn't use her hands to push herself up. She crawled, dragging her broken leg. Pain flared. She pushed through it. "Run." The Voice echoed in her mind. She had to run. Voices coming toward her again. Had to run. _

_She pushed up with one elbow. Pain squeezed and threatened to drag her into unconsciousness. Couldn't faint, not with the latest head wound. "Run." Had to warn them. She limped up the tunnel, the one she knew led out of the caverns, gaining speed with every step. A shout rang out from behind her. They knew. Oh Aslan, give me strength. _

_She ran out into a storm. She had to hurry. Her surroundings were only vaguely familiar. Where was she? Ettinsmoor, yes, she had to be in Ettinsmoor. South, find the river, cross it. Should be a patrol or a border outpost. She could find it. She had to find it. She had to warn them._

"No!" Thunder rumbled outside followed by a flash of lightning. Alambiel didn't care. She had sent the Kings into a trap. She had to stop them. Barely pausing long enough to grab the thick robe, she yanked the bedroom door open.

Leeta looked up from setting down a tea tray. "My Lady?"

Alambiel didn't slow, leaping over Ptah as she dashed to the door. She had to stop them. "My Lady," Leeta called again. "My Lady, wait!"

_It will be a slaughter. Narnia will lose her Kings and General. Army crippled. Have to warn them before Mordad ambushes them._ She flinched when someone grabbed her. "Let go!"

"I cannot, Your Highness."

Looking up, Alambiel met Peridan's steady gaze. He tightened his grip on her arms when she tried to wrench free. She shoved at him. "Let go, I have to warn them. They are headed straight into an ambush. Mordad is plotting an ambush!"

Peridan shook his head. "You already warned them, Your Highness."

"No, you don't understand! There is a trap waiting for them! I have to warn them before it's too late."

"Your Highness, you need to calm yourself. The Kings left yesterday with their troops. They are aware of the planned trap. They look to stop it." He looked past her. "Leeta, come and take your lady back to her chambers."

Leeta's slim hands wrapped around her shoulders and concern was evident in her black eyes when Alambiel looked over at her. "Come, My Lady, please. I will send for the Queens and the Princess Consort if you wish, but please come with me."

Alambiel shook her head, words escaping her in her frustration that no one would listen. However, if she spoke with the Queens and Thalia… She could convince them. That would make things easier. Planning what she would say, she allowed Leeta to steer her back through the corridors until they finally reached her quarters.

"Just wait here a moment, My Lady." Leeta wouldn't leave her be until she conceded to sit on the settee. Ptah was watching her with an intent gaze that put her in mind of being stalked. Alambiel wrinkled her nose in response, making the Leopard twitch. She just needed five minutes to talk to the Queens. Lucy would believe her.

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"Tanith!" Peridan strode into the healer's wing, his gaze intent. "Where is Alithia?"

"She is off-duty today, resting for the sake of her foal." Tanith studied the man. He looked somewhat alarmed. "What do you need a healer for? Is it your colts again?"

Peridan dismissed the suggestion with a wave of his hand. "No, it is the Princess Royal." He ran a hand through reddish-brown hair then sighed. "I had thought Alithia or Tuulea might be the best to help her this time. She is struggling with her battle shock again."

"What happened? Has she injured herself?"

"No, but she tried to run out after the Kings, frantic about an ambush she already informed them was planned. I fear she may injure herself or others in her attempt to stop this hallucination."

Tanith picked up a small vial. "I will see to her and then I will let Tuulea know as soon as she returns to the Cair." Swiftly making her way to the Princess Royal's quarters, she had just reached out to knock when the door opened.

Leeta beckoned her in then whispered, "I coaxed her into going back to bed, but she may change her mind at any moment."

There was a tea tray with fresh hot chocolate and Tanith seized the opportunity to add the contents of the vial to a cup then poured hot chocolate in to cover the taste. The Princess Royal was notorious for avoiding sedatives (and stitches) and Alithia had made certain all of the junior healers knew the best way to sedate her. She handed it to Leeta then waited until the Nymph returned. "Did she drink all of it?"

"She only managed a mouthful before dropping off," Leeta whispered as she pulled the bedroom door to, "She had another nightmare and was simply exhausted. How long will the sedative hold?"

"Around four hours." Tanith flicked her tail. "I had hoped she would drink more, but it should keep her asleep long enough for Tuulea to return. We shouldn't risk the chance of something waking her, though."

Leeta nodded. "I will set a page to watch for my aunt's return." They left the Princess Royal's quarters together. Leeta turned back to address the guard, "No one is to disturb the Princess Royal until Tuulea comes to see her."

The Leopard dipped his head in silent acquiescence.

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Alambiel opened her eyes when she heard the outer doors close. Creeping from the bed, she spat the mouthful of tainted hot chocolate into the washstand bowl. It was a very good thing she had noticed the vial in Tanith's hand; otherwise, they might have succeeded in drugging her. No one was going to listen to her, fine. She would go after the Kings and General Oreius without help.

She pulled on her thick robe and then grabbed the black cloak that had been draped over a chair since the night before and pulled it on as well. Tugging the hood up, she pulled open the wardrobe door then got inside. Alambiel felt for the slight catch in the top left corner then eased the hidden door open.

She stumbled through the dark tunnel, trying not to let the wrong memories overwhelm her. She needed to stay focused. The tunnel had two exits, one near the conservatory and one near the old throne room. She needed to go through the old throne room to reach the escape tunnel. Alambiel kept her steps light and her breathing shallow when she finally reached the end of the tunnel and peeked past the large tapestry. No guards here.

Alambiel stole barefoot across the marble floors, not daring to take a deep breath until she reached the throne room. The throne suddenly shimmered as her mind insisted that her father sat there, smiling with fond exasperation when Grandda caught her hiding behind a tapestry. She blinked and the memory was gone. There was only an empty throne. She crept onto the dais and past her father's throne until she found the little door set into the shadowed alcove. She could remember her brothers' silent panic as Leith grabbed her hand, squeezing almost too tightly, and led her into the dark tunnel behind the others.

She opened the door and ducked inside. Now, she just had to make it to the end. Alambiel wasn't sure how long it took her to reach the end, minutes felt like they crawled by and turned into hours. The stream was practically at her feet when she forced the door open and the surrounding woods were overgrown. The tunnel concealed once again, Alambiel waded downstream grateful for the rain as she approached the horses grazing in a large meadow. There was a small cave with a tack box stored in it just as she remembered and a chestnut mare wandered over to see her almost as soon as she found a bridle. She didn't bother with a saddle as she bridled the horse then swung up onto its back. Turning the mare's head north, she squeezed her knees against its sides. Galloping through the rain, she prayed she wasn't too late.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! **


	32. Chapter Thirty-Two: Perfidy

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Thirty-Two: Perfidy

2 Yule 1008

Mordad stalked through the tunnels. Wait, the demon sorcerer had commanded as though he were his better. As though he, Mordad, had not wrested greatness from Tarkaans a step down from the princes, the recognized sons of the Tisroc. As though he had never stood in the presence of his worthless half-brothers and watched them vie for the rare prizes _he_ offered, more than one seeking to curry _his_ favor. As though he were still the street rat, Angra, scrounging for scraps beneath the tables.

He stroked the hilt of his dagger, imagining how much fun it would be to only scratch the demon and then lock him in chains so he might watch the demon sorcerer die slowly and painfully as the Mergu Tedraja, the Slow Death, worked its way through his veins. Soon, very soon, he would teach that sorcerer why the name of Mordad was feared across the Calormene Empire and Telmar. Tash willing, it would not be long before the opportunity presented itself.

"Make ready."

The demon's hiss startled him. However, Mordad only tightened his grip around the dagger. He glared at the cloaked and hooded figure barely discernible from the surrounding shadows. "For what?"

The sorcerer came closer, red flashing from within his hood. "Do not forget I control you, Angra now Mordad. I know your secrets and the Tisroc would rather kill you than allow you to challenge his legitimate princes." Mordad started to slide the curved dagger from its sheath but the sorcerer ignored him, _dismissed_ him, as he continued talking, "Lew's Daughter almost remembered your plot to ambush the Kings had the assassins you chose actually succeeded in their tasks to remove the Queens. Consider yourself fortunate that I was able to twist her dream from memory and now the Kings and their General come to stop your ravaging of the Marsh-Wiggle village."

"When?"

"They have already left Cair Paravel. They intend to set up their own ambush north and west of the village in the same marsh as planned."

Mordad edged closer to the sorcerer. "How soon will they arrive?"

"The morn of the fourth of Yule. You must-" The demon gasped and gurgled as gloved hands reached around to grasp at where Mordad's dagger had slipped between his ribs.

A chuckle rose to Mordad's lips and then filled the cavern with a hollow echo. "I find it is time for us to part ways, demon. My thanks for your aid in luring the Kings of Narnia to my trap. I can make do without the Royals' tunnel, though. Tash will welcome you with open arms!" He grinned as the sorcerer continued to gasp, the first taste of Mergu Tedraja was always a shock to the body. Grasping the demon by the shoulders, Mordad dragged him through the tunnel to the cheers of his men until he reached the holding cells. He would ensure that the demon sorcerer could work no tricks nor see where he went from here.

The demon screamed like a mortal as Mordad put out his red eyes. In a final moment of mockery, Mordad unsheathed an untainted boot knife and cast it to the cavern floor next to the sorcerer's hand. "If you are too weak to endure the Mergu Tedraja, demon, end your suffering if you can find the knife." The demon's curses filled the air as he left. Mordad faced his men and raised his bloody dagger high. "Death to the Narnians!"

"Death!" The cry from over a hundred throats rumbled through the caverns, drowning out even the demon sorcerer. Mordad grinned. King Mordad...yes, he rather liked the sound of that, King Mordad of the North for after he took Narnia, he would easily conquer Archenland.

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3 Yule 1008

Peter reined Frost in then swung down from her back, allowing the mare to drink from the stream. It was their last halt before entering the Marshes. He rested a hand against her black neck when she raised her head with a nervous whicker, glancing back at his Tigers. Babur was watching the south where the main troop had paused to rest. Bast was...out of sight.

Lowering his hand to rest on Rhindon's hilt, Peter caught Edmund's gaze and nodded toward the copse of trees across the stream. His brother gave the slightest of nods, resting his hands on the pommels of his twin blades. "Maybe you should find a rock, Pete."

He scanned the brush for any sign of Bast or whatever had caused the woods to go completely silent. "What are you talking about, Ed?"

Edmund waded into the stream, seemingly preoccupied with scanning the streambed. "As a souvenir, of course. You can give it to Thalia and tell her that this is a rock you came across in the Northern Marshes when you were actually conscious. I'm sure she'll swoon over it."

A snort escaped him. "We're not in the Marshes yet, brother mine. Or did that Harpy knock more than your brain loose when she dropped you? Your sense of direction and wit perhaps?"

The underbrush rustled and Peter caught a glimpse of Bast creeping toward it. Then twin grey blurs exploded from the brush with joyous howls. "We found you!" Edmund yelped as the blurs bowled him over. Peter released his hold on Rhindon with a soft laugh as the Greyback twins splashed around his brother. Bast emerged from the underbrush with a look of disdain for the Wolf pups.

"Your Majesties?" A Bruin peered at them all, looking half-asleep. "Is all well?"

Edmund was too busy snarling as he staggered upright to answer so Peter quickly nodded. "We are well, Humphrey. Thank you."

The Bruin nodded once then lumbered off back toward the troop. Peter hid a smile as Bast and Babur came to flank him, their green eyes flat and muzzles wrinkled with disgust at the Wolves' continued antics. One of them panted up at Edmund. "We found you! Aren't you glad, King Edmund?"

"We almost lost you when you left without us, but not for long." The other Wolf's pink tongue lolled out of his mouth in a happy smile. "I told Remus he had to hurry if we were going to catch you."

"You did not! I told you!" Remus wagged his soaking wet tail as he splashed alongside Edmund. "How come you wanted us to track you, King Edmund? We passed, though, didn't we? We tracked you all through the night!"

"Well, almost all night. But, Remus' side was bothering him and he had to rest."

"My side was not bothering me. You were just tired."

"Don't be such a pup."

"Enough!" Edmund glared at the Wolves. "I left you at Cair Paravel on purpose! You were not supposed to come with me, especially you, Remus. I should send you home right now!"

The Wolves tilted their heads in unison. Peter had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at their innocent confusion as Romulus said, "But, you didn't tell us not to come, Alpha."

Remus nodded. "You didn't say to stay."

Edmund groaned, running a hand through his sopping wet hair. "Why else would I leave you two in Cair Paravel?"

The Wolves exchanged a look then Remus tentatively wagged his tail. "We thought you were too busy wandering around in your sleep to remember we're supposed to come with you."

Clearing his throat, Peter barely kept himself from laughing out loud at the perplexed expression on his brother's face. Philip snorted and muttered something that sounded very much like "menaces." Edmund raised his hand to point at the Wolves then lowered it. "You'd just find even more trouble if I sent you home. Fine, you can stay." He raised his hands for quiet when the Wolves leapt to their feet with joyous yips. "However, you had better not wander off or try to get anyone to play with you. We're setting up an ambush so you two need to stay by my side and be quiet."

The Wolves both tried to look fierce as they could while dripping wet. Remus couldn't seem to keep from grinning though as he nudged his brother. "Told you Alpha would miss us."

Peter coughed then cackled as Edmund groaned.

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"Susan! You better come quick!"

"Quickly, Lucy. Honestly, you should know proper grammar by now." Susan set her knitting aside (she still had to replace five pairs of Edmund's socks) and calmly rose from her seat. "Now what is wrong?" Her calm air was suddenly difficult to maintain when she saw Lucy's wide-eyed alarm. "What's wrong?"

Lucy grabbed her hand. "Kat's missing."

Susan didn't hesitate. She ran through the corridors with Lucy until they arrived at Kat's quarters. Ptah was pacing the rooms, stopping on occasion to inhale deeply. Tuulea, Tanith, Leeta, and Peridan were all there as well. Susan turned to Peridan first. "Where is she?"

The swordmaster bowed. "I must confess I do not know. None of us do. The Princess Royal was sedated. She should not have been able to leave her bed, much less her quarters."

The Queens exchanged a look then Lucy frowned. "Why was Kat sedated?"

Peridan cleared his throat. "That was my doing. She was running through the palace in little more than her nightgown and robe intent on finding the Kings and stopping them before they went into an ambush. I feared she might harm herself if she continued to attempt to warn them of something she already informed them of and I informed Tanith of my concerns."

Susan narrowed her eyes. "Leeta? Did Kat actually take the sedative?"

The Black Elder Nymph ducked her head. "A single mouthful and then she seemed to slumber. I assumed it was due to her difficulty sleeping of late. We did not disturb her until Tuulea returned."

"For how long?"

"A little over five hours, My Queen."

Susan exchanged another look with Lucy. Knowing Kat, she had probably slipped out as soon as everyone left. "What did she take with her?"

"Nothing save a cloak. And Pepin is in his stall still."

Kat was out there in the raging storm, probably on foot. Was it not enough that Edmund's Wolves had sneaked away yesterday afternoon? Susan smoothed her hands over her skirts, trying to calm herself enough to think of where Kat might go. "Have scouts looking for her and search the Cair. We must hope that she hasn't gotten far on foot." _Oh Aslan, keep Kat safe. _

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4 Yule 1008

A low growl rose again. Edmund lowered his hand. "Quiet, Remus."

The Wolf ducked his head but a barely heard growl still rumbled in his chest echoing that of his brother's. Edmund twisted in the saddle, scanning the marsh. Dawn had only just tinged the east with a faint blush but they were already on the move to their chosen position. It was drizzling again with faint rumbles of thunder in the distance. But, there was no sign of anything that should set the Wolves off.

Peter's Tigers were also uneasy and even Philip kept tossing his head. Edmund rested his hand against Philip's neck, ostensibly to reassure the Horse but also taking comfort himself in the contact. He guided Philip closer to Peter and Oreius. "What do you think it is?"

The Centaur was grim. "I do not know. Be on your guard, My Kings." The words were barely out of his mouth when a Gryphon screamed a warning cry. The Wolves and Tigers snarled. Edmund raised his shield and thrust his arm in front of Peter, just in time for an arrow to shatter against the steel. Oreius reared, shouting orders. Edmund unsheathed Shafhelm. War cries not from their own troops echoed around them. Ambush.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! Dun dun DUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNN! I hope this chapter has clarified some of your questions after the last chapter. Only four chapters left, by the way. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one. **


	33. Chapter Thirty-Three: Scrimmage

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Thirty-Three: Scrimmage

Thunder echoed overhead and the wind began to pick up speed. Mordad grinned and raised his sword high above his head. "Men! We have been displaced! We have been disowned! We have been exiled! But, today we will take what is ours! We will rule like the gods themselves! We will destroy the demons and freaks that live in this land and we will take it for our own!"

The roar from his men would have caused Tash himself to quiver. Mordad smiled, a slow vicious twist of his lips, as he entertained himself with the idea of taunting the Kings with the knowledge that he would add their sisters and the High King's consort to his royal harem. Just long enough to produce some heirs then he would have them killed...unless he decided to keep one of the Queens, the Gentle perhaps as she was lauded as the most beautiful woman in the North. As for Ishara Reborn, she would learn everything the sorcerer had forbidden him and his men to do to her.

Mordad shouted, "Take your positions! Bring death to the Narnians!"

His men, now silent, stealthily arranged themselves behind the hills surrounding the path the Narnians would have to use. They hid beneath the scraggly, stunted trees to avoid the Narnians' scouts. And then they waited. An hour passed.

Just before the second hour passed, they appeared. Mordad raised his hand as they slowed, the Kings conferring together with that demon they claimed as general. One of his archers rose to his knees, drawing an arrow back to his cheek. A shadow passed over them. Mordad hissed in frustration as a flying freak, a mix between lion and bird, screamed out a warning. His archer loosed the arrow, but the younger of the Kings blocked it with his shield. Mordad lowered his hand and another wave of arrows was loosed. Rising to his feet, he shouted, "Death!"

His men echoed his cry, "Death!"

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"Death!"

Peter grimaced as the cry echoed all around. The ambush was well-set and already more of their soldiers had been downed by the arrows than he'd like to think about. _Aslan, give us strength._ A man cut down a Panther then raced toward him. Peter raised his shield, grunting as the blow rattled his shield and arm. He shoved hard then followed through with Rhindon. The man's curse was silenced mid-word.

Thunder clapped then lightning arced across the sky, casting an eerie light. Peter's feet caught in the muck and he nearly lost his balance. A hand yanked on his tabard, righting him and pulling him onto slightly firmer ground. He looked over his shoulder and gave a curt nod. His brother's pale face was grim as he nodded back. "Watch yourself."

"And you."

The battle raged on. He caught a glimpse of his Tigers fighting, mud and algae staining their orange coats, but thank Aslan neither seemed injured. The Gryphons screamed another warning. Peter dropped to one knee next to Edmund and then raised his shield in unison with his brother. Arrows hit and broke against the shields then subsided. Peter surged to his feet and let out a war cry, "For Narnia and for Aslan!"

"For Narnia! For Aslan!"

Enemy fighters rushed them. Peter whirled to place his back against Edmund's and raised his shield to block an axe. The force of hit made his arm ache all the way to his shoulder but he shrugged it off. He stepped forward slightly, twisting to his left as Rhindon sliced deep into the mercenary's thigh. The man roared and brought his axe up again. Peter hammered his shield into the man's elbow then plunged Rhindon point first into his opponent's unprotected side just beneath the armpit.

More men rushed him. Peter fought on until both his shield and Rhindon felt heavier than even the first time he wielded them under Oreius' tutelage. Somewhere in the chaos was Edmund. _Have to find him._ Sweat dripped down his face and back to mingle with the dampness created by the rivulets of rain creeping in the gaps in his armor. Occasionally the wind would shift and the rain hit him at an angle, slipping inside the eye slit of his helmet, threatening to blind him.

Peter stomped on a mercenary's foot then slammed his shield into the man's gut, rolling him over his back to land in the mud. The man snarled and swiped at Peter's legs only to be tackled by Bast. Peter nodded to the Tigress when she looked back at him. He was unharmed. Something in Bast's expression shifted as her gaze moved beyond him. Peter whirled around. Edmund had abandoned his shield and was fighting with twin blades against a couple of mercenaries. But a huge brute of man lumbered out of the rain behind them all, his massive war hammer raised and aimed at his brother's vulnerable back. "Edmuuuuuund!"

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Edmund panted as he dodged one mercenary's sword and blocked the other man. "Edmuuuuuund!" Peter's cry carried to him in spite of the raging storm. His head turned, eyes automatically searching for his brother before they caught on the huge mercenary with the war hammer. He couldn't move fast enough to dodge the hit, not with the other two men straining against his swords. _This is going to hurt._

Twin grey blurs slammed into the brute. They made no sound while the man screamed in fear and dropped his war hammer as one Wolf latched onto his arm and the other clawed and bit at his torso before all three toppled. Edmund dropped to one knee, bringing Shafhelm down and to the right, cutting one mercenary's legs out from under him. The other man didn't flee in spite of the fact that Edmund could see his desire to fight shrinking by the second. "Tash!"

Edmund stepped back and to the side, as skillful as any dancer, allowing the mercenary to run past him. The man turned back, snorting as though he were a bull, his breath forming large white clouds. Then he charged. Edmund shifted his stance, waiting for just the right moment. There. He stepped into the man's charge, batting away his sword, and then struck once. The man dropped with only the faintest of gurgles as his lifeblood mixed with the muck underfoot.

Lightning flashed overhead, illuminating the battlefield. He caught a glimpse of Oreius and at least a score of heavily armored Centaurs charging for the northwest hill where Mordad's archers still held their ground. Then he was once again caught up in the battle. He tried to make his way back to where he had last seen Peter, but the blasted mercenaries were conspiring against him. Edmund ducked his head against the pelting rain then allowed his foot to slip.

The mercenaries in front of him couldn't resist. Edmund surged to his feet with a wordless battle cry. He dodged and spun away from their attacks, driving them toward one of the hidden pools he had noticed earlier. If he could get them to fall in, that would keep them distracted enough to allow him to reach Peter. One of the men pulled a dagger and lunged. Edmund sidestepped it even as he cut the man down. A howl rose from somewhere to his right. Shoving the remaining mercenary back so he tripped over a small hillock, Edmund whirled. One of his Wolves leapt on a mercenary, snarling. He saw the mercenary twist his sword to slash at the Wolf just before he fell. Another howl rose, "Romulus!"

Edmund raced to the wounded Wolf, gulping at the large red stain matting the grey fur just in front of his back leg. "Romulus!" He dropped to one knee next to the Wolf and placed his hand on Romulus' head.

Romulus whined, "I stopped him, Alpha."

"I know, I know you did. I saw you." Edmund cleared his throat. "I'm very proud of you, Romulus. Don't worry, we're going to get you out of here." He waved an arm to catch the attention of one of the Centaurs. He quickly rose as the soldier approached. "Get him to our healers and make sure the rest of the wounded are being pulled behind the line."

"Yes, Your Majesty." The Centaur scooped Romulus into his muscular arms then galloped away.

Remus looked up at Edmund, yellow eyes fierce with determination. "I'm staying."

"All right, come on." Edmund threw himself back into the fray. One thought weighed foremost in his mind. _Where is Peter?_

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Mordad sneered at the Narnians fighting below. Not nearly as many had fallen to his archers as he had wanted. The ground trembled beneath his feet as Centaurs charged up the hill. Mordad paused at the sight of the foremost Centaur, the one whose armor was lighter and more decorative than the others. He remembered him. The General, Ishara Reborn's lover from Veri.

He didn't move as his archers were slaughtered and trampled beneath the Centaurs' charge. He didn't care. Mordad only cared about waiting for the opportune moment. There. The Centaurs were splitting off into two groups. Mordad stepped out into clear view and raised his sword in unspoken challenge. The General saw him, he could tell from the tightening of the demon's fist around his claymore. Mordad spun on his heel and ran back to his horse then galloped toward the flood plain. This was going to be fun...he would make sure the General died from a thousand cuts but not before he explained to the demon exactly what he was going to do to Ishara Reborn.

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Edmund spun and cut down another mercenary. Remus' grey coat was splattered with a mix of mud, algae, and blood (none of it the Wolf's though) as he ran beside him. The Wolf pup bared his teeth in a snarl. "There!"

Following the Wolf's gaze, Edmund's heart stopped when he saw Peter struggling to throw off the two huge mercenaries (were they half-Ogre?) holding him down as another man approached them with a wicked-looking spear. "Nooooo!"

"Remus, get them off Peter," Edmund snapped. He could only trust in Aslan that the young Wolf would reach them in time. He focused on the spear bearer. The man hefted the spear, poised to skewer Peter. Out of the corner of his eye, Edmund saw the grey blur that was Remus barrel into the nearest brute. Peter was struggling again. Edmund picked up his speed.

Running faster in spite of the muck clinging to his boots, Edmund sheathed his secondary sword and raised Shafhelm high as he leapt forward. A war cry burst from his lips as Shafhelm hacked through the spear haft, the spearhead falling harmlessly into the marsh water. However, the mercenary was too quick. Edmund was knocked off his feet as the man slammed the spear haft into his ribs.

Edmund gasped for air, his ribs radiating hot pain as he rolled out of strike range. Black spots danced in front of his eyes. Still, he surged to his feet, unsheathing his secondary sword as he did so. His brother had already engaged the man. Peter's helmet was gone. Rain and blood darkened his golden hair and blood dripped down the left side of his face but still he fought.

The mercenary sneered, warping a face that would have been almost too pretty if not for his broken nose, then he slammed his spear haft into Peter's leg. Edmund's blood boiled as his brother's cry of pain filled his ears. He charged the mercenary, chopping through the spear haft and then kicking him hard in the gut. Edmund placed himself between Peter and the mercenary, uncaring of how his ribs burned and ached. He was not going to allow this coward to touch his brother again.

The mercenary drew a large curved scimitar. Edmund darted in then sidestepped, baiting the man. Despite the height and strength he had gained in the last eight years, the mercenary still made up three of him and it was all muscle. The man charged. Edmund ducked under his swipe and plunged both swords into the man's torso, one piercing his heart. He wrenched his swords free and the man fell, eyes unseeing, as Edmund turned back to his brother. "What happened to not losing consciousness this time?"

Peter managed a wan smile. "I'm conscious. I just don't want to be." Still he gasped as Edmund helped him to his feet. The fighting was dying down around them. "Where's Oreius?"

Edmund scanned the battlefield. "I don't know."

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4 Yule 1008

Lightning struck a scraggly tree nearby and the horse reared. Half-blinded by the rain, Alambiel lost her grip on the mare's mane and the reins. The horse reared again and she fell. Alambiel coughed as she staggered to her feet. The mare was already a brown dot disappearing back south.

The sound of fighting reached her. Alambiel ran toward the sound, staying close to the shadows as she clambered over rocks and fallen trees. She might have been too late to prevent the ambush but she _would_ find a way to help. A man fell with a short cry, tumbling down the slight path she followed. Alambiel stared into his face and tensed as she recognized it even though the last time she had seen him there had been a mocking and cruel leer carved into his sallow cheeks. Mordad's men...and she had no weapon. She quickly searched the dead man, some part of her relaxing an infinitesimal amount when she found a sturdy dagger. This, this she could control.

Alambiel continued up the path. Shouts and the distinctive clash of metal grew louder until she reached a bend. Peeking out, she caught sight of a Centaur surrounded by at least six mercenaries. General Oreius. The sight made her heart constrict and she didn't understand why but then she froze. Another mercenary was creeping up behind the fight, his bow aimed at the General's back. The dagger left her fingers before she even realized she'd raised her hand. The dagger buried itself in the archer's chest and he fell with a strangled cry.

Another of Mordad's men slammed into her, yanking on her cloak until she managed to free the clasp. Now she turned and slammed the heel of her hand into the man's nose. He shouted and cursed in pain. She wrenched his sword free and slammed the pommel against his temple, backing away as he collapsed.

"Oh look, the witch has returned. Just in time to watch you die."

Alambiel shuddered as she turned around. Mordad was watching her with that awful smile of his. And behind him was the General...he looked horrified.

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Oreius could not shake his horror at Alambiel's unexpected arrival. She should not be within a day's ride of here, much less within Mordad's grasp. He did not miss the fear in her eyes when she turned to face Mordad, her sword still held in front of her. Anger flared and he kicked out, catching another mercenary in the head. He would not allow Mordad to touch her again.

The snake was already toying with her, stepping just close enough to almost be within range but never close enough for her to strike. _No more. _No, he would end this as he should have in Veri. Oreius charged. Alambiel lunged as Mordad turned, catching him in the side. The snake cursed then kicked her twice in the knee, driving her down into the mud. He raised his sword. Oreius swung his claymore with all his strength, slicing through the snake's neck and arm. Mordad's body crumpled to the sodden ground,

Alambiel flinched, her borrowed sword dropping from slackened fingers as she turned her face away from the severed head that rolled to her feet. Oreius sheathed his claymore then grabbed her arms to steady her. She had been forced to face too many demons already. He sought the words to reassure her. "It is done." He tightened his grasp slightly, worried she would slip into shock or even faint. "Alambiel, it is done. He will trouble no one now."

Alambiel gave a little half-nod, still not looking at him, and the dull roar of water closed in. Oreius scanned the area, the few mercenaries who had survived were limping north. But, he had allowed himself to be lured into the flood plain and after three days of continuous rain... Oreius shook his head then held a hand out to Alambiel. "Come."

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Alambiel stared at the General then she stepped over Mordad's body, not looking down, and took the Centaur's hand. He swung her onto his back. "Hang on."

"Why?"

"We must outrun the flood."

Eyes widening, Alambiel clung to him. "What about the Kings?"

"They will be safe." Then the General galloped _toward_ the flood. Alambiel bit back an objection to his chosen course as he suddenly leapt up to a crumbling ledge. She tightened her grip as he fought for footing then galloped up a path that was almost too narrow for him. Dark, debris-strewn water roared past as the General climbed higher. Alambiel jumped as thunder clapped directly overhead. And then the General touched her hands. He glanced over his shoulder at her. "We will be safe here." She opened her mouth to ask where and then General Oreius ducked inside a cave.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! Big thank you to WillowDryad for making sure that Mordad is in fact dead. :) Only three more chapters to go. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one.**


	34. Chapter Thirty-Four: Realization

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Thirty-Four: Realization

Edmund trudged through the muck, leading Philip and Frost by their reins. He glanced over his shoulder to check on Peter again. His brother was listing in the saddle, no doubt trying to keep weight off his leg. Edmund's own ribs burned with every breath and Remus was bounding back and forth between where he and Peter were at the head of the column and back to where Romulus was being carried on a litter. The healers had already warned him they would need to stop soon for the sake of their wounded but the water steadily rising about their legs pushed them on.

It was only by the grace of Aslan that they had avoided being so far west as to be in the flood plain proper. They had barely escaped the bulk of the flash flood but they still needed to get to higher ground. No one had seen Oreius since the battle and Edmund could only hope the Centaur would rejoin them soon. One of the scouts hurried toward him. The Elk lowered his head in a bow. "Majesty, we've found high ground. There's a Marsh-Wiggle healer who makes his home there as well but there is room enough for us to set up camp."

"Very good," Edmund said more out of enforced habit than anything else. He glanced back at Peter again, worrying and trying not to show it. "Let's get our people to shelter."

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Alambiel shivered and hugged herself as she stood as close to the fire as she dared. The General was on the other side of the fire, stirring the ingredients of the cook pot. He looked up and his already severe expression darkened further. "You never should have left Cair Paravel."

"If I hadn't, you'd be dead." She turned her head as a cough tickled the back of her throat. "I tried to get here before the ambush happened, to warn you all once I remembered the real plan. I'm sorry I wasn't able to remember soon enough, get here fast enough." The cooking food smelled good and her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten in two days. The silence after was nearly oppressive. Alambiel wrapped her arms around herself tighter, wishing that she still had her cloak, even it was soaked through it would have been another layer over her nightgown. And she was stuck in a cave with a married Centaur. "I hope your lady won't take offense to my presence here. I mean, she should understand that we're stuck and you didn't really have a choice about bringing me with you."

Silence was the only answer. Alambiel turned her face back toward the General. He was standing very still but she could see the tension in him. His dark eyes bore into her as he ground out, "Why would you say that?"

Alambiel couldn't feel her cheeks, too numb from the rain and the rapidly dropping temperatures (even with the fire), but she was certain they were bright red. "I- That is I know it's probably a breach of protocol and definitely of good manners for me to be stuck here with you, dressed as I am, but surely your wife-"

"My wife?"

"Yes…Tanith? That is your wife's name, isn't it?" Alambiel felt another wave of humiliation wash over her as the General stared at her. Surely, she hadn't just made an even bigger blunder than asking him about being engaged.

He shook his head. "No, Tanith is not my wife. I have no wife."

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_Alambiel believes Tanith is my wife?_ The admission shook Oreius. He turned his attention back to the confounding mare across from him. She wasn't looking at him anymore, but still she shivered and quaked like a leaf in the wind. He scowled at her damp clothing, wet hair, and dirty bare feet peeping out from beneath the mud-stained hem of her robe. The words burst free before he could temper their tone, "What were you thinking running into the marshes with no weapons, no shoes, and not even properly attired for the weather?" She flinched slightly and offered neither retort nor answer.

Oreius sighed. "Forgive my harsh tone, Your Highness. But, you will most likely become ill after your venture into the marshes. Come here on this side of the fire. You will be warmer if you are not so close to the cave's mouth." She slowly walked toward him as he dug out a dry blanket. Oreius had the sudden memory of draping a blanket around his Alambiel's shoulders in this very cave. He shoved it away even as he gently wrapped the blanket around her now. He barely touched her shoulder and she crumpled, head bowed, as if the last of her strength had finally been drained.

He leaned down and gently tilted her chin up. Her eyes had the glaze of weariness. At least she had not fainted but she needed food and quickly. Oreius checked the stew then filled a bowl and placed it in Alambiel's hands. "Here, eat this. It will help. I promise it will help."

He tried not to think about how her hands were like ice. But, still he doubted that her feet were in much better shape. What had his soldiers been thinking to allow her out of the Cair?

"They didn't let me out. I used the tunnels."

Oreius looked up sharply. Alambiel was still clasping the bowl between her hands and she wasn't looking at him. "Tunnels, which tunnels?"

If he hadn't been watching her so closely, he probably would have missed the way her lips thinned into a determined line. "If you don't know, I'm not telling. I didn't tell Mordad and I won't tell you." She glanced at him now, no doubt attempting to measure his reaction.

He forced himself to look away and focus on pouring some hot tea. He suddenly wished he had access to hot chocolate or coffee, which he knew Alambiel preferred, but the tea was all that was in his pack. He held out a steaming cup. "Here. You need to get warm, this will help too."

"You drink first."

A little smile worked itself free in spite of himself. She used to demand he drink first any time she suspected the healers were trying to sedate her. She had only been right once. His smile vanished as he realized someone had most likely attempted to sedate Alambiel recently. Oreius cleared his throat then gave a slight nod. He drank the tea then refilled the cup as well as the second one. He offered the second cup to her and this time Alambiel took it.

"Thank you." Her whisper should not have warmed him as much as it did considering he was attempting to distance himself from the memory of their love.

Her earlier admission still troubled him. But Oreius didn't want to bring up an upsetting topic before she had eaten at least half of the stew. The shadows under her eyes were puffy and he wondered when she had last sleep well.

"Will they be all right?"

Alambiel's soft whisper jolted him out of his contemplations. "The Kings and the rest of the troops would have reached high ground long before the flood became a true peril. They are safe."

Silence reigned between them as she ate and Oreius tried not to notice how much Alambiel was still shivering. If he focused on it overlong, he knew he would not be able to resist the urge to pull her into his arms to reassure her that she was safe and loved until she finally fell asleep. _Oh Aslan, give me wisdom._ "Why did you think I was married?"

Alambiel looked up at him, startled then she blushed as she lowered her lashes. "I saw her kiss you. You didn't look…trapped. And I was thinking about the way you hesitated when I asked about whether you were engaged." She shook her head and set aside the bowl then pulled the blanket closer around her shivering frame. "I just… I thought you hesitated because you didn't want to throw the fact that I had forgotten your wife in my face. Obviously, I'm an idiot. And I have an appalling taste in questions."

"Nonsense. I should have thought to clarify for you." Oreius hoped she believed him. He hated seeing her confidence so shaken. But, perhaps the reason she had drawn back from him over the last three weeks was due to her mistaken belief that he was married and not because he still frightened her. _No, you have no business contemplating such a thing. You promised to let her go._

A coughing fit filled the air and wracked Alambiel. Oreius handed her a fresh cup of tea, hoping it would at least soothe her cough. He watched her drink it all then he handed her another bowl of the stew. "Here, you need to eat more."

She picked at it mostly but finally ate a few spoonsful. "What is it?"

"Coney stew from the rations."

"It's good." She managed a few more bites before setting the bowl aside again and huddling in the blanket. Oreius sighed. Alambiel was most definitely ill. He unfolded the blanket he had placed to warm next to the fire and spread it on the shelf to his right. Then he carefully picked Alambiel up. She was so near to sleep that she didn't even open her eyes as he moved her to the warm blanket. Oreius wrapped a heated stone in several layers of cleaning cloths until only a pleasant warmth radiated from it then tucked it next to Alambiel's feet before he finally covered her in his cloak.

She still looked so fragile. He waited and kept watch until her face relaxed in sleep as the fire burned low. Her cheeks were flushed, though. Concerned, Oreius returned to her side and lightly pressed the back of his fingers against her cheek. She was burning up but she shivered still. How he wished he might summon a proper healer for her.

He smoothed his cloak over her then pet her hair. How could he carve her out of his heart? Oreius closed his eyes. He knew the answer. He would let Alambiel go, he knew he had to let her go, however… In spite of his mind cautioning him, his heart won this last battle. He leaned down and brushed his lips against her forehead. A ragged whisper broke free of his constraints, "You will forever be my heart. There will be no other." He brushed another kiss against her forehead, this time in farewell, though he could not force himself to speak those words. Confident Alambiel slept on, Oreius returned to his vigil.

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She was both cold and hot, never comfortable but she couldn't force herself to open her eyes. Something brushed against her forehead and then a whispered rumble filled her ears, "You will forever be my heart. There will be no other."

The words sank deep into her heart and her heart constricted at the pain it recognized in the voice. She had promised to remember, she had promised...

_"It's safe now." She raised her head at the whisper and looked into a mirror. But the reflection was nearly as foreign to her as the one she had been staring at for the last three months. This reflection looked healthy and untroubled as she held out her hand. "It's safe, we don't have to hide from him anymore. And we did promise to remember."_

_"I don't know how."_

_"Oh come on, we remember how. It can't be any harder than staring down the Monster and the secrets behind this door are far more pleasant." The reflection held out her hand again. "We've finally claimed our birth name. Don't let Mordad win this last fight." The reflection smiled. "And we did promise."_

_She hesitated then nodded. "We promised." She rose from where she had been sitting on smooth, dark glass and reached out to grasp her reflection's hand..._

_Hands settled on her shoulders and she jumped off the settee, book clasped against her chest. "Will you quit that?!" His laugh filled her ears and she struggled to scowl at him. "I'm serious! Don't do that. I was trying to read a book in peace, you know."_

_"I thought you heard my approach."_

_"It's been six years, when have I ever heard your approach when I was engrossed in a good book?" A smirk worked its way free even as she gave him her best haughty look. "I thought so."_

_She closed her eyes as calloused fingers lightly skimmed her jaw and chin. She didn't open them as warm breath not her own tickled her lips. "You are my heart, do not forget."_

_She couldn't keep from smiling as she whispered, "Never, I promise." His hold around her tightened and then he kissed her again. _

_Dipping her feet into the stream, she barely kept her giddiness from bubbling out of her. Her Kentauri was spending the day with her and this in spite of the fact there had already been an incident reported to him. Maybe he really was suffering from a concussion... _

_"Alambiel..." Was he going to propose to her now? Not that she would really mind, but she had been hoping he'd be a bit more romantic than asking her right before she went to Redhaven. She turned andhe closed the distance between them, pulling her into an abrupt hug. She felt him press his lips against her temple and she wrapped her arms around him, memorizing how safe he made her feel...how safe and how loved. He set her back down then caressed her cheek, his heart in his eyes this time, softening the stern lines of his face. "I will miss you, Alambiel."_

_Smiling, she curled her fingers over his hand then leaned her cheek against his palm. "I'll miss you too, Oreius. Just try not to get lost in your paperwork while I'm gone." She squeezed his hand. "And, I love you too."_

_The Centaur chuckled then sighed. "The Morning Dove is waiting for you."_

_Alambiel squeezed his hand again. "Don't worry, Oreius, I'll be back in a fortnight. Definitely back by the fourth of Frostmoon." He grinned and the sight warmed her. Funny how just remembering the date he finally asked to court her could bring them both such pleasure. He took her pack then threaded his fingers through hers and they walked down to the dock. _

_Oreius surprised her by cupping her cheek as they stood in front of the gangplank. He didn't say anything this time, but it was all right. She knew what the gesture meant - I love you, be careful, come home soon. She smiled at him then eyed the Kings. "Try to stay out of trouble while we're gone."_

_Then she forced herself to stride up the gangplank. She already hated this ship. Lucy was standing at the railing, waving. Alambiel wondered if her arms ever got tired... As soon as the Morning Dove got under way, Lucy gave her a little sideways glance. "So..."_

_"Sooo what, Lucy?"_

_Lucy beamed at her. "You and Oreius were gone all day yesterday. Did he ask you?"_

_"Yes, he asked me a number of things. It's actually how most of our conversations start." She pressed her lips together to keep from snickering at Lucy's groan._

_"Oh Kat! Did Oreius propose?"_

_"Not yet."_

_"Yet?"_

_Alambiel laughed softly. "We're not courting each other just because we're avoiding other people, Lucy. I'm in this for life and so is Oreius."_

_Oreius smiled down at her, transforming his face into something far more approachable than his usual serious mien (not that the mask of seriousness had ever really stopped her from approaching him). He held up the sprig of forget-me-nots then tucked them behind her left ear. His touch was gentle as he tilted her chin up, dark eyes searching hers. "Never forget I love you, sweetheart."_

_She smiled. "Never. I promise." And then he kissed her._

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! I hope this chapter fulfilled at least part of your wishes for the cave. Now, she just has to tell him. ;) Only two chapters left, including the epilogue. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one. **

******A/N2: The ship, Morning Dove, belongs to WillowDryad who was kind enough to allow me to borrow the trig little thing from her story _Counted Among the Traitors_ (psst, if you haven't read this, you should go read it...now, right now!) and give it to Lucy two years early. **


	35. Chapter Thirty-Five: Hearthside

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Chapter Thirty-Five: Hearthside

A soft whimper echoed in the confines of the cave. Oreius stirred up the dying embers, coaxing the fire back to life and hoping it would help to heat the small cave. Alambiel was shifting restlessly, her eyes moving behind their lids and her cheeks still flushed with fever even though her lips were nearly bloodless. Pneumonia perhaps. She whimpered again and her brow furrowed as she shifted, almost as though she were attempting to toss off the blanket and his cloak.

"Shh, Alambiel, shh. You're safe. It is all right, you are safe." He wasn't certain if she realized he was there and speaking to her but her movements slowed. Oreius quickly checked the wrapped stone at her feet. It was cold. He should have thought to replace it earlier when the wind first started to pick up outside. Removing the stone, he unwrapped it and set it to heat by the fire again. Alambiel mumbled something in her sleep then a soft cry escaped her.

Oreius turned back in time to see a tear dampen her lashes and roll down her cheek. "No. Shh, Alambiel, shh, do not cry." He pet her hair but she only wept more. What dream or memory plagued her so? There was no help for it. He gathered Alambiel, blankets and all, into his arms then gently knelt so she was as close to the fire as he could manage. He should have simply laid her down and then returned to standing watch, but his heart refused such a plan.

Alambiel trembled from both cold and dream. Oreius tightened his hold around her and pressed her head against his chest (he had already removed his own sodden tunic and armor) then brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek. "Shh, Chéadsearc, do not fear. I have you now. He cannot hurt you anymore. I promise, Alambiel, I promise he will never harm you again." It was only after Alambiel seemed to calm and slip into more peaceful dreams that Oreius realized he had slipped back into the habit of calling her Chéadsearc. She would always be so, always be his Sweetheart, but he reminded himself that he could not slip again...especially when Alambiel was awake.

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"There's nothing for it, Your Majesty. He's good as dead, like as not. A horrible way to go too. What with infections of the nose, foot, and eye."

Edmund grit his teeth as the Marsh-Wiggle healer poked at Romulus' wound. The Wolf pup looked absolutely terrified and then Remus howled in grief. Edmund glared at the Marsh-Wiggle and snapped, "Your bedside manner is rather atrocious, Master Mumpwort! Remus, hush, it's all right. Romulus will be fine." He looked over at Charissa and the Nymph rolled her eyes. That's what he'd thought. Edmund turned back to his Wolves and forced a bright tone, "Don't worry, a couple of weeks and you'll be good as new, Romulus."

"Oh yes, yes unless of course the worms set in. Then he'll be eaten from the inside out, like as not, and his fur will fall out then his tail will fall off."

"My tail?" Romulus' yellow eyes somehow grew wider as he struggled to sit up. Charissa hurried forward to hold Romulus down.

The Nymph's smile at Mumpwort was nearly as sharp as her arrows. "Thank you for your input, Master Mumpwort. I should like to finish tending to my patient now, if you please."

The Marsh-Wiggle nodded then rubbed his webbed hands together. "Well, I suppose I should tend to the High King. If he hasn't already perished of broken ribs or boils or his neck swelling to an unusual and unbearable size due to parasitic algae."

Edmund stayed just long enough to pet Romulus' head. "Don't worry, Charissa will take good care of you." Then he hurried after that blasted Marsh-Wiggle. Who knew what he would tell Peter?

He pressed a hand against his burning ribs as he ducked inside Mumpwort's wigwam (where the Marsh-Wiggle had insisted in his very pessimistic way that Peter be put). Mumpwort was puttering about and already talking. "As I said, Your Majesty. That twisted knee is just the beginning! Why it'll lead to your leg falling off, like as not, and then you'll die very slowly. Years of misery and pain in your future. And your concussion, now that will lead to blindness. Blindness and then you'll lose all sense of taste and smell." He turned to Edmund and his long, sallow face seemed to grow longer. "And then I shall be executed, like as not, for failing to cure the High King. Unless of course the flood somehow finds us and washes over us, drowning the lot of us. Flash floods do that, you know."

Edmund scowled. "Has this hill ever been flooded before?"

"No, but that's not to say it won't happen, Majesty. Flash floods are unpredictable like that."

Edmund groaned while Peter, for some reason, just looked amused. Mumpwort looked over at him. "Have you taken hurt as well?"

Peter's amusement faded. "I thought you let the healers look you over, Ed."

"I'm fine." He did not want that Marsh-Wiggle predicting something absurd like his toes falling off. "Really, I am."

"Oh no, brother mine," Peter shook his head, frowning but then Edmund got a glimpse of amusement in his brother's eyes as he continued, "If you haven't seen a healer already, you might as well avail yourself of Master Mumpwort's expertise."

Before Edmund could escape, the Marsh-Wiggle healer already had him sitting on a stool. He shot Peter a dirty look then reluctantly shrugged out of his armor and tunic. He hissed as his ribs protested. Mumpwort poked at his bruised side. "Oh yes, this is terrible. Your arm will fall off, like as not." Edmund made a face at Peter as soon as the healer went over to a shelf full of vials. Mumpwort brought over a squat brown vial and opened it. Edmund's nose twitched at the noxious smell but he didn't dare let himself sneeze or cough in this Marsh-Wiggle's presence. Mumpwort sighed then gloomily observed, "This might help with the bruising but it's just as likely to eat through your skin clear down to the liver. Never used it on Sons of Adam before now. If you start to tingle, warn us because you might be about to burst into flames. Or you could not warn me and burn me down with the wigwam as well for failing to cure you. Unless this storm turns into a blizzard and freezes us all and then we'll shatter into little bits and pieces. Food for the eels. Actually, we might make the eels sick and that could start an entire new plague."

Edmund groaned. Mumpwort continued to smear the noxious paste on his side. "See, King Peter? It's already starting."

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5 Yule 1008

Oreius had held Alambiel in his arms until the worst of the storm eased. It felt colder now, though. He redressed in his tunic and armor then wrapped his cloak and the blankets more tightly around Alambiel before scooping her up in his arms again. Leaving the cave, he followed the path higher until he could look out over the marshes. It would take time for the floodwater to dissipate, time Alambiel did not have. Oreius galloped toward the closest high ground across the marshes as the first fat flakes of snow began to fall from the grey sky above.

Three hours had passed before a Gryphon cried a greeting. Oreius peered up through the steadily falling snow then altered his course to follow the scout. Alambiel hadn't stirred once as he carried her and he feared the exposure to the elements would only worsen her condition. The light of the campfires were a welcome sight. Still, he ignored the surprised looks on the sentries' face when he carried Alambiel past them. The Elm Dryad, Charissa, quickly waved him into a tent. Carrying Alambiel to a curtained off section of the tent, Oreius had barely laid her in the hammock when his colts hurried in (well, his dark colt hurried while the High King limped at a more measured pace) followed by a Marsh-Wiggle.

The Marsh-Wiggle peered at Alambiel. "Oh dear, she's as good as dead, Your Majesties. There's no help for it. Why I expect we'll see her hands and feet fall off, like as not. And then she'll shrivel away like a salted eel. Once she's all brittle, why someone will probably touch her with just one finger and she'll turn into dust, like as not."

Charrissa glared at the Marsh-Wiggle. "You are not helping, Mumpwort. Get out."

Oreius clamped one hand down on the Marsh-Wiggle's neck and forced him out of the tent with his colts following behind. They would be looking for explanations. Oreius released the Marsh-Wiggle then turned to the Kings. "Mordad is dead."

The High King nodded. "Good. But, why is Kat here?"

"It is a long story, Your Majesties."

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8 Yule 1008

Peter smiled broadly as the walls of Cair Paravel, lightly dusted in the first snow of the year and glistening in the moonlight, came closer and closer. They had set a slower pace returning due to their wounded, but now they were finally home. In spite of the late hour, Cair Paravel turned out to greet their returning party as families sought their loved ones and healers hurried to help bring the wounded in. Peter caught a glimpse of Kat being carried on her litter with Edmund's Wolves snuggled on either side of her (they had volunteered to guard her) toward Tuulea. Edmund clambered out of Philip's saddle acting as though his ribs were no longer troubling him (in spite of Mumpwort's dire predictions).

Swinging down from Frost's back, Peter winced as his left knee threatened to buckle. Slipping on a patch of ice that morn had certainly set back his own progress compared to his brother. "Peter! Edmund!"

He looked up with a smile as Lucy raced down the stairs, sturdy boots flashing from beneath her nightgown and robe. Peter caught her in a hug then bussed a kiss against the top of her head. "Where are Thalia and Susan?"

"They're coming. Look!" Lucy bounced over to Edmund and caught him in a hug, only to step back a moment later. "Oh Edmund, what did you do to yourself this time?" Susan reached them just then, pressing a kiss of greeting against Peter's cheek then swooping down on Edmund to join in Lucy's fussing over him.

Peter chuckled then he found himself with his arms full as Thalia slammed into him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Peter!" He stumbled, his knee protesting, and his wife's soft warmth immediately slipped away as her hands shifted to his arms, trying to steady him. Concern was etched into her light green eyes as she looked up at him. "You are injured."

He smiled. "It's nothing, Flower. Come on, let's go inside before you three freeze." Working together, he and Edmund managed to usher them all inside and up to the Royal Wing. Peter smiled and bid his siblings goodnight, promising to give the girls full explanations in the morn. Then he led Thalia into their quarters. He sighed as he sank into a chair. "I'm glad it's over."

Thalia touched his shoulder lightly, causing him to look up at her, and then she leaned down, giving him the sweetest of kisses. "Welcome home, my love."

She helped him out of his armor and tunic until he wore nothing more than his breeches and his boots. He stopped her before she could touch his stained boots. He didn't want her to sully her hands on them (especially since his valet was no doubt planning to burn them). Thalia merely kissed his forehead again. "I will see your bath is drawn."

The bath certainly went far in helping him wash away the last physical reminders of the battle. Still, he could not help the groan that escaped him as he eased into bed. Thalia rolled over to look at him, one slim hand resting on his shoulder. "Peter. Tell me how I can help."

He took her hand and pressed a fervent kiss against her knuckles. "You help me just by being here, Flower."

Thalia smiled and blushed. Then she shifted and tugged him to lie down with his head in her lap. "I think you need to relax, Husband. Let me help." Her fingers ran through his damp hair, gently massaging, as she told him about how Cair Paravel fared in his absence. Peter sighed and closed his eyes as his wife's gentle voice washed over him and lulled him closer to sleep, replacing the memories of battle and death with the sweet promises that made such fighting worth it.

Peter didn't stir until Thalia shifted away, leaving him to rest on a pillow. He opened his eyes then held out his hand to her. "I forgot to give you a proper greeting, Thalia. Allow me to remedy that mistake."

He grinned as she giggled then blushed when he tugged her down on his chest. Peter kissed her once then he kissed her again, deepening it as he did so. He trailed kisses down his wife's neck, tugging the neckline of her nightgown down in order to kiss her shoulder. "I love you, Thalia."

"And I love you, Peter."

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Edmund cracked his eyelids open and peered at the door, wondering what had woken him. He slid his hand underneath his pillow as casually as he could and gripped the hilt of his dagger. A too-loud whisper broke the silence, "Shh, you'll wake Alpha."

"You're the one who whimpered, Romulus. Why isn't he growling in his sleep?"

"Maybe he's not sleepy enough. We better make sure he doesn't wander off in his sleep."

Edmund fought the urge to roll his eyes as he released the dagger. The second morning after Peter assigned them to him, the Greyback brothers (well, it was Remus) had asked him if he was awake after he had forced himself to get up at the crack of stupid to go to training, he had snapped at them that he bloody well was not awake. Now, they were thoroughly convinced he walked in his sleep.

Still, he pretended not to be awake as first Romulus then Remus hopped up onto the bed. Romulus snuggled up against his right side, keeping pressure from being put on his stitches (Alithia said he was healing nicely...after she once again reassured Romulus that his tail was definitely not going to fall off), while Remus snuggled up on his left. The Wolves' breathing evened out in sleep very quickly and Edmund just smiled. Not that he would ever admit to anyone that he kind of missed the Wolf twins whenever they didn't stay with him.

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10 Yule 1008

Oreius didn't know why he was here again. But still he stood at the foot of Alambiel's bed, watching her sleep. Her breathing was still uneven and a cough rattled in her chest but she did look a little better than she had when they first reached Cair Paravel. "How is she, Tuulea?"

Tuulea placed a cool cloth against Alambiel's forehead. "She is still struggling against the pneumonia but she will probably be on her feet by Christmas. Alambiel keeps saying your name. Perhaps-"

"Don't. Don't give me any more false hope. It is done."

Tuulea turned, her eyes piercing him. "Then what Alithia says is true? You are truly going to forsake Alambiel and your love for her?"

"I will always love Alambiel." Oreius glanced at her still form for a moment then met the Black Elder Nymph's gaze. "But, for _her_ sake I must let her go."

He thought Tuulea might argue with him, in fact, he had been certain she would and had already prepared his defense. But, she said nothing of the kind. Instead, she merely rose from the chair next to the bed. "I need to see about preparing some more chamomile tea for Alambiel. Stay with her until I return."

She left before he could protest. A hoarse mumble came from the bed, "Oreius."

Oreius turned but Alambiel was still asleep. She coughed, a harsh hacking sound that made him wince inside, then mumbled again, "Oreius. Please..."

He moved closer, opening his mouth to reassure her, to tell her that he was there, but then she moaned, "No. Oreius. No, don't touch me. Don't. Don't. Leave me alone... Please..."

Oreius bowed his head. If that was what she was telling him in her dreams... He couldn't stay. He moved away from the bed and forced himself not to respond whenever Alambiel mumbled his name in the midst of her fever dreams. Tuulea had only just set foot inside Alambiel's quarters when Oreius seized the opportunity to leave.

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17 Yule 1008

Alambiel sighed as Leeta brushed her hair. She supposed she should be happy that Tuulea had actually allowed her to sit on the bench in front of her dressing table. Of course, her head was pounding and she still coughed every time she turned around. "Are you sure he took the note?"

Leeta nodded as she started braiding her hair. "I handed it to him myself, My Lady. Perhaps General Oreius is merely waiting until Tuulea allows you to have visitors."

"Did he-" A fit of coughing racked her, stealing both words and breath away. Alambiel groaned then coughed a little more as she braced both hands against the dressing table.

Leeta tsked then gently cupped her elbows, urging her to stand. "Back to bed, Your Highness. You need more rest after your insane dash through rain and snow."

"Be fair. I only dashed through the rain. I wasn't even awake when it snowed. I wish you and Tuulea would understand that."

The Nymph laughed softly as she pulled the bedcovers up and tucked them around her shoulders. "We do. But, since you wouldn't have been out in the snow if you hadn't gone dashing out into the rain, both events are your fault. You're fortunate the General thought to put a warming stone at your feet otherwise you might have had frostbite to go with your bruises."

"Thank you so much for that explanation, Leeta." Alambiel wanted to ask about Oreius again, but her eyelids were so heavy and she was still so weary. Sleep won.

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20 Yule 1008

Oreius stared at another note from Alambiel. It was the eighth one since she had awakened a week ago. But, he did not open it. Like its predecessors, he forced himself to toss it into the fireplace. He would not read her words nor would he visit her (it helped that Tuulea had forbidden any more visitors after his last visit on the tenth). He wasn't strong enough to let her go if he continued to see her, to interact with her. He still hadn't emptied his desk drawer of everything relating to their courtship...he wasn't strong enough for that either.

No, he would have to remove the items completely after Christmas, after he returned from a very long inspection of the outposts. Tomorrow afternoon, he would leave Cair Paravel. He could not stay here, spend Christmas here with Alambiel so close but so painfully far away. His mind made up, Oreius pulled out his travel packs. As soon as he finished training with the Kings and one last meeting regarding the events surrounding Mordad, he would leave. Eight weeks should be enough time to numb his heart.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! Stubborn Centaur... Y'all liked Mumpwort though, didn't you? :D Stay tuned for the epilogue! Also, do you want it tonight or tomorrow? Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one. **


	36. Epilogue: Not Alone

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: When memory is veiled, can the love forged between two hearts survive?

A/N: If you have not read the first seven stories in the _A Light in the Darkness_ main story arc (_Awakened, Shadowed,_ _Revealed, Concealed, Rekindled, Refracted, and Reflected_), I highly recommend you do so for the full experience. However, I have included a quick summary of the previous stories so if you want to give this one a whirl on its own, you can.

Epilogue: Not Alone

21 Yule 1008

Alambiel fidgeted impatiently as Leeta finished gathering her hair into an intricate, braided chignon. She could have done it faster but Leeta had insisted that if she was going to help her get ready for visitors then she might as well look ready for the Yule festivities (not that Tuulea was going to allow her to go). Still not a word from Oreius. Where was that Kentauri?

"All right, we're done. My Lady, wait!"

Alambiel ignored her as she hurried to the doors. "The deal was for you to fix my hair, Leeta, and I allowed you to pick this dress." Her slight smile faded when Ptah met her. "Was he in a meeting?"

The Leopard shook his head. "No, My Lady. General Oreius is preparing to leave the Cair for an inspection of the border outposts. He will not return until Snowbrice."

She couldn't let him leave thinking she didn't remember him (she hadn't put that fact in her notes, just requesting he come see her as soon as possible…she had wanted to see his face when she told him). He was probably in his quarters, though, getting ready. Alambiel ran past the Leopard to dig in her desk, pulling out a single item. Leeta had pulled out the thick red cloak that had once belonged to Oreius. "Put this on, just in case."

Alambiel accepted the cloak then, with Ptah by her side, she hurried to Oreius' quarters. The doors were shut and there was no answer at the knock.

"Alambiel, what are you doing here?"

She turned to see Ardon and Alithia. "I am trying to see the General. I have to talk to him."

Ardon shook his head. "He is gone."

"How long ago? Please, Ardon, it's very important."

She didn't miss the look of shock and hope the two Centaurs exchanged. Then Alithia nodded. "He left only ten minutes ago. You might still be able to catch him. And Alambiel? Do you remember…?"

Alambiel smiled. "I remember enough, Alithia. Now I have a Kentauri to catch." Spinning around, she sprinted out into the snow-covered courtyard. Oreius was nowhere in sight even when she dashed through the main gates. She didn't slow until she reached the woods. She changed her course from the road to dart through the snow-covered trees until she reached the meadow where they had always sparred. "Ptah, go and find him. Tell the General that the Princess Royal has great need of him and she is waiting for him in the sparring meadow. Hurry." As the Leopard bolted through the trees, Alambiel prayed that Oreius would listen. He had to come back.

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Oreius rested a hand against his claymore as he turned back to face the rustling. A Leopard burst from the underbrush. "General!"

"Ptah, what is it?"

"The Princess Royal sent me with a message. She says she has great need of you and is waiting for you in the sparring meadow."

Oreius tensed. Why would she send for him? Was it… He banished the thought before it could take root in his heart. Still, if she needed him…he would go to her. He nodded to Ptah then entered the woods. He barely noticed that the Leopard did not follow after him.

She was easy to spot. The long red cloak wrapped around her but it did not completely hide her white gown as she turned toward him. He scolded himself for dwelling on how she still looked a little too thin and too pale though her cheeks were flushed, most likely from exertion. Oreius bowed formally. "Your Highness, is there aught I might do for you?"

Alambiel didn't answer. He looked up to find her standing much closer to him, her blue eyes searched his then she looked down before he could read the emotions in their depths. She held out her closed fist then uncurled it, revealing a gold coin. She looked up then with a shy smile. "Lion for your thoughts?"

Oreius' breath caught in his chest. "You remember me."

She nodded then stepped closer, still holding out the coin. "I promised to do so." As he covered the coin with his hand, she laughed softly. Then Alambiel leapt into his arms, wrapping one arm around his neck. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Mordad kept trying to taint my memories of you and I couldn't let that happen, so I started to put you, the memory of you, of us, behind a wall where he couldn't touch those memories. I didn't really forget you, Kentauri. I just…misplaced the key for a while."

He knew that it would take more time to finish healing from the pain of the last few months, for both of them. But, as he held his beloved in his arms, Oreius knew he had turned the page to the next chapter of his life. And he would not let her go again. He drew back slightly and looked into her eyes. There was the recognition he had longed for and there was the warm glint of fondness. Oreius brought one hand up to cradle the back of her head, feeling her soft hair beneath his fingers, and then he lowered his head and kissed her.

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Alone, he was alone and wounded. He could not see and his magic was not so easy to direct without his sight. Curse Mordad for betraying him. His lungs struggled to work. Every breath was coated in the haze of pain. His magic could not heal him. He was alone.

A Presence came close. He could sense it, sense _Him_. He almost went toward Him but stopped himself. He was His enemy. "Have you-" He broke off coughing and then groaning as the poison continued to eat away at him. "Have You come to kill me?"

"No." The Voice was so rich, so pure that it hurt his ears to listen. "No, Markus of the Fell and once of another place, a world long forgotten, I have not come to kill you. It is not yet your time. But, you have a choice to make. The time and place of that choice is coming soon. Be ready."

Then a warmth encased him. He felt the poison from Mordad's blade leave his body and then… He blinked. He could see golden paws and the fringe of a golden mane in front of him. The Voice filled his ears once more. "Be ready, Markus. The time and place of your final choice is coming soon." And then he was alone once more.

Markus… No one had called him by his name since he left the White Witch's side. Markus summoned his magic, but his reserves of strength were still low. Why had the Great Cat come to him? Why had He saved him? What was this choice? He did not know and he did not like the feeling that the Great Cat's notice was about to change his careful plans in a most drastic manner.

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Alambiel opened her eyes as Oreius broke the kiss. She reached up to touch his cheek. "I don't want you to go. I want you stay here, have Christmas here with me. Please, Oreius."

He looked at her for a long moment then nodded. "I will stay."

"Good." She stepped out of his embrace but threaded her fingers through his as soon as she found the coin that had fallen into the snow at their feet (this coin would be going into her jewelry box). "We should get back before you get in trouble with Tuulea."

"Why would I be in trouble when you are the one who came out here?"

"Well, I wouldn't have had to come out here, Kentauri, if you had stayed inside the Cair. And Tuulea will blame you anyway." She smiled at him as the sense of rightness enveloped her as they walked back toward Cair Paravel. "And I want my letters back."

Oreius laughed aloud and Alambiel smiled wider. Now, she was finally home.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! Y'all thought I was going to let him miss Christmas, didn't you? ;) As for the non-KnockOut-related section...just remember he hadn't died YET and Aslan always has a reason for the things He does. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one.**

**A/N2: And so ends _A Light in the Darkness: Veiled_. I have no idea when I'll start _Unveiled_ due to Real Life obligations; however, I CAN guarantee that this is the LAST main story where Oreius and Kat are single. So, keep an eye out for the proposal and the wedding (I promise no Fell wedding crashers)...I should get to them before Christmas. **

**A/N3: A giant thank you to all of you lovely readers who followed, read, favorite, reviewed, and basically stuck with this crazy and frustrating ride of a story, especially those who popped in and left a review since it really does help to know that someone is reading and actually enjoying the story enough to leave a comment. _Veiled _is now my most reviewed story! Thank you! A special and heartfelt thank you goes out to WillowDryad without whom I would probably still be second-guessing myself and trying to finish this story, especially for demanding I put in more Peter and Thalia fluff and more Edmund and the Wolves to help lighten the mood. :D If you have not read her lovely and nail-biting-inducing stories, especially the current one with Peter and Edmund (and my Wolves), _Wind's Harvest_, you have no idea what you're missing and should go read them...now, right now! :D **

**Until our next meeting, friends, adieu. ~ Lady A**


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